A Sister of Mercy (Rev. 2)

[brynmawr1]

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        seems like removing further blurs the time frame of the recollection and makes it a little more immediate language
up at the narrows of Lake Travis
sketching grasses and flowers
while I wooed.  We only had a week.

The final night,                           not sure you need this, maybe replace with more of setting, mood information.....Under cover of candle light, we listened... but better!
listening to the soundtrack
of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid at low volume.    the bolded part is a fragment if you care.
Dylan’s chords and visions
did not cloud or interrupt
our whispers striving to at least 
meet each other in constant hope.

Hi TqB,
I like the title and the soft tone of the poem.  I can imagine the narrator so delicately navigating the push and pull of these types of relationships.  
Take care,
Bryn