Within the wild wood
there blows a wailing wind
from wide dark windows
whittled into rock walls
the watchman whispers
for the wayward wanderer
whose willfulness wanes
when they walk without
wile or wantonness
wishing they were found
wondering why and where 
the bewitching whistle
would be wound beneath 
the world and wind
wary of the warning
of watery welcome
the watchman waits
wrestling with his want
to wreck the weak
and wound the wllling
that wager their will
and walk within
the wide dark windows
without witness