a haiku walk along the river

An old universe
rises on a blade of grass--
a droplet of dew.



How does the river
hold the trees, the sky, and me?
I will never know.


Three river otters
casting concentric ripples
play and dive and splash.




Wire fences, cobwebs--
boundaries between here and there
collect morning dew.



New lambs being born--
things I am not meant to see
along the river's bank.



I heard the soil say,
"when will you rain, for I am
so thirsty and dry."