There is a shed you should not go to
Asbestos in your lungs, pictures in a box
In the pale light, turning to blue
The glass eyes of a stuffed fox.
Tarnished coins you’ll never spend
Broken memories of a broken life
A dusty secret, a long gone friend
A rusty nail, a bladeless knife.
And there’s a path you have to follow
Under a moon that doesn’t care
Between the river and the willow
Beside the rock, right over there.
The hidden traces are still around
A bitter curse rushing in your blood
A crooked root lying underground
That will be unburied by the flood.