Beneath the willow, you will find

A hoarde of bodies which I have left enshrined.

It’s been weeks, months and no one has found

The blood and guts that soil the ground.

A foot here, a head hanging from a branch,

If you look over there, you will see my last ganch.

There are many wonders here to unfold,

As long as you don’t mind being in the cold.

Here’s my collection of legs and arms,

I told you...