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.