The trees of the forest shiver and shake.
Their long limbs tremble from the next quake.
White is the color of my nightgown
As I stand and shiver with a frown.
A shadow emerges from the trees.
I hope it is not him, pretty please.
My body moves forward against my will.
I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.
I dig my feet into the packed snow,
But I must go where the wind might blow.
