Saddlebacked,
A scoop of spoon
From the early Sussex Down,
White Hawk Camp,
Walls built up and now
Land-filled in
Barely a hump raised
above the ground.
Sea to the South,
Our town lies East
And chalk scrub
and Roman Sycamore grown,
No reason, no guide yet tells me
The why of White Hawk Walls surround.
Little flora, little fauna,
All fertile flows with the old river
~ South bound.
Yet White Hawk Camp,
Built with earth, furrowed with antler,
Dug by stone,
Sermons, surmounts Brighton,
giddy from the downs.
If not incursion, what awed excursion
Inspired this raising of the grounds?
Think of the moon, aye, or sun
Shining midnight, midday
On this triple horseshoe found ~
Gleaming chalk,
An ecstatic walk,
Did those pre-souls pilgramage
Up to dig in White Hawk Camp
As i pondering
Now stride down?
Dan Bellton '04