This is the poem. You can judge its worth for yourself. Remember this was written twenty years ago…

Casablanca

I haven’t heard many secrets lately

Not since the night we ate whiskey balls

Watching videos with the sound down

As you told me about the night before

You said he broke your rear-view mirror

Trying to get on top of you

And that his bald spot

With its little pimples

Shone white in the moonlight

You remembered being hungry

And wanting to listen to the radio

I made you stretch out your hand

And connected the lines with a pen

Telling how every mark

Revealed a secret about you

I remember how the whiskey balls

Tasted particularly like gunpowder

But that we kept dropping them on the floor

And picking them up with our teeth

and await the Great Stillness.

With great stillness
I sit in my house by the sea,
the always moving sea
roaring at night its threats
to encroach further.

With great stillness
I stand on the cliff to watch
as wind-swept waves
come thundering, yellow
as if carrying sickness.

And the man is far away
with the last of my money.
And the timbers creak
and the eaves rattle
as a storm approaches.

An old woman
with nowhere to go
I wrap my shawl tighter,
send the hungry cats out to hunt
and wait, in great stillness.

[Not to be taken literally!]

Blood red, antique gold
jack-o-lantern orange
raspberry magenta
brilliant flashes of life
before the long winter slumber
.-= Jenny Miller´s last blog ..Add Your Poetry =-.

All through the midnight I listen
To the sound of moving cars
Driving pass on the highways
And I wait

All through the night I wait
For the sound of movement
Any movement any sound
And I hope

All through the daybreak I hope
Staring in emptiness
Permeating throughout the staleness
And I sit

All through the night
From midnight to daybreak
I listen, I wait, I hope
And I sit waiting

For my better half
Who has left
For a better place.

Oh please can we see the one of yours he said was nearly perfect?

You remind me that I have wanted for some time now to write some tributes to particular poet friends/mentors of mine who have died. Thanks for re-inspiring me!