Here is my attempt at a golden shovel:

Line from ‘Marginalia’ by Richard Wilbur

<<Things concentrate at the edges; the pond surface>>

 

Some day I acknowledge relations, not things

Is the important belonging to concentrate?

The mourning and cries are nothing at

Their loss – education of a, an and the

Is significant, but why relation edges

In the mud of confusion and the

Perplex layers of silent pond

Hide their true face on the surface