The culprit’s all but impossible to find
in Brueghel’s flesh-packed masterpiece: Christ
on the Way to Calvary: a cattle skull
gapes on what appears a Flemish holiday—
a flood of humanity, confident of life.
Barely discernible against the tide,
a small grey face bent to the heavy earth
beside the crushing weight of a huge cross.
A great day for a hanging, as they say,
all headed for Golgotha in a blue haze.