She is slow - the River Ouse -
running muddied below Lewes -
there a capricious millpond -
but when she swells

under storms - off streams
Bevern and Northend
and the quick River Uck -
she reverts to ancient freshet -

swift to rise to redress
the forgotten flood meadows
now supplanted by tarmac -
She rushes . . .

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