Down by the river beneath the sky
And a fluttering fan of willow boughs
I see your reflection in the water bright
That the ripples break when the north wind soughs.
The eyes that stare back into mine
Are dark and cold as the river stones.
And the words you mouth are bleak and raw
As the cold that bites when the north wind moans.
I try to recall how your eyes would dance
When we’d come to the river where the willow weeps
Never thinking our love would turn like the tide
To be lost in the ocean’s unsmiling deeps.
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 