It is impossible to maintain
a constant perspective
Heraclitus often reflected
between wept moments
Democritus often laughed
at blubbed floods of words
A month’s worth of rain
fell in one single day
Hellingly’s bi-sainted church
sits above our Cuckmere’s threat
from change-swollen reaches –
wet acts of Peter and Paul’s god
You stood naked in our risen river –
that serpent slips – a gelid rising
You were bare at its quick confluence
with a rushed stream – name unknown
I found you in bed with a clay figurine
Sussex has a hundred words for mud
