Samsquanch

The tall grass moves, as I flow through
I am the chill in the air, around you
The dry branch snaps, as I walk past
I am the glare that you feel on your back
The tracks are left, the snow compressed
I am the sounds that make you, second guess
The shadows shift, as lights drift by
I am the movement in the corner of your eye

In the wind I hide
In the woods I hide
In the cold I hide
In the dark I hide
In your mind I am alive