Just outside the river whirls around trees,
bushes in the meadows, as a place to drink
for cattle: the cows and sheep
and wildlife from the hills surrounding the valley.
A castle overlooking
and believes it is older,
but the river just smiles:
As old as I am, nothing is;
not even the hills I created.
And it bends, whirls around another bush
and takes all within to her larger sister
and to the sea where she sweetens into salt
and a big pond where she cannot find
her own drops no more…