Poetry by Nicholas Trandahl

STANDING ON THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN

Late autumn dusk.

I am surrounded
by the quiet of dead things.

Winter claws at the edges.

Creaking ponderosas--
tall and black
against the overcast sky.

Darkness is the oldest thing
in the universe--
I watch in silence
as it swallows the whole mountain.




THE MORNING MARY DIED
dedicated to Mary Oliver

Dawn--
soft and pink.

A deer walks from the frosty trees
and wades out into the North Platte.
Geese float nearby.

She’s already gone by the time
I drive over the bridge.

Her white soul takes flight
into the radiant morning colors
like a great silent heron.

The winter sunrise breaks over
the cold darkness of the prairie.




HONEY GIN

A bedroom window brightens
with silver-grey morning light.

Winter’s almost over.

When the thaw arrives,
I’ll stretch with the tall pines.

I’ll take greedy swallows
of April and May--
ethereal and fragrant honey gin.

I’ll leave my boot prints
behind me, in the mud of the trail,
and you’ll know I’m somewhere
alone on the mountain--

free and happy.

​​

Nicholas Trandahl is an Army veteran, poet, outdoorsman, journalist, and traveler. A member of WyoPoets and the Bearlodge Writers, he finds inspiration in new adventures, nature, good books, and the understated beauty of everyday life. Trandahl lives in Wyoming with his wife and daughters. Trandahl’s poetry collections are published by Winter Goose Publishing, and his poems have also appeared in various journals, anthologies, and compilations.

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