My love left me standing in the woods,
A place we have often gone,
And upon seeing my face forlorn,
He stood up and walked on.

There were no words of comfort,
Only pity in his eyes,
I should have known better,
After all he never did lie.

Standing alone now in the woods, I wonder,
What was it about my heart he plundered,
That made his face turn ghostly white,
And turn and run into the night.

Was it my neuroses that cried out,
Like owls screeching, “WHO!  WHO!”
Demanding the name that vexed them,
Or was it simply that I cared, perhaps too much for him to bear.

Regardless now I stand alone,
On these two feet I call my own,
In these woods this darkened night,
And all above I hear the owls take their flight.