Beware the trees

The moon freezes

With silver thorns

The eldritch trees

And binds their knees.

Until, that is, she’s gone.

On moonfree nights

Bindings come loose,

And to their delight

But our regret

The trees may move.

They creep forlorn

Against the bricks

Scratching thorns,

Stealing firstborns

And weaving tricks.

Children remember this:

When the moon flees

From the soft kiss

Of an eclipse;

Beware the trees.