SONG OF PROXIMATE BLAME

There is a wellspring with blood brimming

and each has drunk from it before

and someone killed a pendulinus

and someone did great harm therefore

And then he felt regret and sorrow

and in his hands cupped water clear

and up against the light he scanned it

and fearing much held back no fear

And holding he could not contain it

water through fingers my God gone

and broke stone in the empty quarry

and begged in vain: himself to stone

And holding he could not contain it

and fearing much held back no fear

and the wellspring is with blood brimming

and each one has stood by too near