A Sister of Mercy (Rev. 2)

[TranquillityBase]

A Sister of Mercy

You were on your way back to Ohio. 
On the last night 
we lay next to each other,
never touching
chaste as Tristian and Isolde.

You had milky skin, freckles,
pale brown hair down your back.
I still see you in the wild ravine
up at the narrows of Lake Travis
sketching grasses and flowers
while I wooed.  We only had a week.

In the darkness, bedded down in the living room,
we listened to the soundtrack
of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid at low volume.
Dylan’s chords and visions
could not cloud or interrupt
our whispers striving to at least 
meet each other in constant hope.

A Sister of Mercy



You were on your way back to Ohio. 

On the last night 

we lay next to each other,

never touching

chaste as Tristian and Isolde.



I still see you in the wild ravine

up at the narrows of Lake Travis

sketching grasses and flowers

while I wooed.  We only had a week.



In the darkness, bedded down in the living room,

we listened to the soundtrack

of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid at low volume.

Dylan’s chords and visions

could not cloud or interrupt

our whispers striving to at least 

meet each other in constant hope.







A Sister of Mercy







You were on your way back to Ohio. 



On the last night 



we lay next to each other,



never touching



chaste as Tristian and Isolde.







I can still see you in the wild ravine



up at the narrows of Lake Travis



sketching grasses and flowers



while I wooed.  We only had a week.







The final night,



listening to the soundtrack



of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid at low volume.



Dylan’s chords and visions



did not cloud or interrupt



our whispers striving to at least 



meet each other in constant hope.