“Keep silver in your pockets,
Walk with dirt in your shoes,
Or he'll poke your eyeballs from their sockets,
And boil your bones in stew.
Stay away from the hickories,
Stay away from the trees,
Don't sing, don't shout, don't run about,
Or he'll never let you leave.
Watch out for his rough fingers,
His eyes as red as blood,
Whisper a prayer, you'll need them there,
As he pulls you into the mud.”
―
Katherine Greene,
The Woods are Waiting