With credit to Robert Frost for the first three lines, taken from lines 1, 3, and 5 in “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”.

Whose woods these are I think I know
He will not see me stopping here
My little horse must think it queer,
A deafening silence, drawing near

And though it’s said I’ve much to fear
From sinister sounds both far and near
I thank my stars I do not hear
Sardonic laughter in my ear

Whilst silence settles ’round me, clear
Were he to see me stopping here
With my horse, thinking it queer
We would vanish, bones and gear

For though I know he sings a song
Once changed, he’ll amble softly along
Silence precedes his gleeful tune
Until he howls, eyes on the moon

Most grateful am I to know this fact
Preparing myself, now, to react
The wind is calm, now dark woods cackle
A fire burns and gently crackles

My breath doth curl and icy air lick
Silence dawns, stifles, becomes chthonic
Quiet encroaches, settling in
With his approach I give a grin

No bated breath will you find here
For laughter’s begun in my ear
My breathing slows, and pupils slit
Claws extend from fingertips

Though these woods his may be
From the moon I am free
Subsistence kills are for his sort
While my kin like to kill for sport