In a mountain dream
I am by the blue mountain.
It is morning and I feel the cool mountain wind.
I seek the river, but I am lost.
A woman walks down from the mountain.
I greet her and ask her where the river is.
Instead of answering she tells me her name is Nadja.
I am named after the book, she says.
In the distance I see the blue mountain
because now I am with Nadja by the river,
walking in sunlight, listening to the buzz of insects.
The past remains up for grabs, she says,
including more than the light, the water, and the matter.
Speaking of water, she adds, have you had enough
of the river? Yes, I say, and I explain
my feelings about mountains.
I understand, she says. Then I am with her
by the blue mountain again.
Now I know where the river is,
now the breeze is warm and gentle.
Nadja is trying to catch a butterfly with a net.
And something else, she shouts, laughing:
There are accidental encounters
tramped all over the rules of the game.
______________
Tim Murphy is the author of two chapbooks, Art Is the Answer (Yavanika Press, 2019) and
The Cacti Do Not Move (SurVision Books, 2019). His poetry has also appeared in Blatt Blað,
Frontera, Ink Sweat and Tears, Snapdragon, and Sulfur, among others.