The trees wave their boughs like a scarecrow's arms,
dancing to a tune the wind plays.
Unsettling to see in the darkening sky,
their silhouette at the end of the day.
The wind is whispering in ominous tones
as an uneasiness descends over me.
So spooky to watch the trees bounce and sway,
like a phantom ... though its only a tree.
Imagination runs wild while the wind outside
plays games with my fertile mind.
Though I see moving arms, if a light I should shine,
I know a tree is all I would find.