If it snowed on Halloween,

The trees would dress like ghosts.

Instead of treats they’d give us tricks

That we’d enjoy the most.

They’d drop their snowsheets on our heads

Or poke us with their bones

Or haunt us, when the wind was strong,

With ghostly gasps and groans.

We’d stand right next to them and laugh

And mock their spooky sound—

For all the time we’d know ghost trees

Are rooted to the ground.

Illustrated by Dilleen Marsh