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Further Phoenix
at Rio's Attic:

My Own Private Idaho

Mike Waters

Joan Baez
Rio's Attic: Celebrating the Life and Times of a Dearly Missed River Phoenix

Just Some Things Left Unsaid

By Joy,
Pennsylvania, USA

Voiceless empathy falls on forgotten ears.
Speechless sorrow rises and then falls through swollen tears.

You were here - but that is the past.

Days and nights with shadows,
finally accepting that nothing is here to last.

Walking softly down that strip alone, your strong hands securely
fastened in your pocket -
waiting for that chance to be unknown.

(Your brother, weeping on the phone.)

Did you see your last step before
you took the fall?

What were your words?

Whose name did you call?

Left-over wine stains on the bed -
I hid away my anger -
left my mourning to the dead.

I spent too many nights riding shot gun to your echoes in my mind.
There was no release
nor any shelter that I could find.

And I wasted so many nights looking for you in the black -

(too many days smelling your hand-me-down sweaters,
praying you’d be back.)

I waited for you like Mary Magdalene.
I never could forget you,
or give up your ghost.

Last night, I listened to Baez,
and reached for a knife -

A Memory for a Memory
One Last Night, or My Life ---

Nothing but twinges though,
You made yourself obsolete-
ended your own show.

And in my body -
Yeah Man,
you left one Final Glow.

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