Foretellings

“I have discovered my poems often come true--that my poems are foretellings.” ––Eileen Tabios I’m deeply in love with a woman I’ll spend the rest of my life with.  I have a summer home at the Chateaux de la Cheuvre d’Or, Eze-Village, Cote d’Azur, France.  I write my poems on the balcony overlooking the sea, with a flute glass half filled with champagne and a plate of creme fraiche pancakes poised on the concrete railing.  A black, wrought-iron lamp fluffs on when the sun sets, making the green mountain next door a thin silhouette.  A woman with a silk scarf tied around her neck, silk yellow gold blouse and white pants shares the view, the writing life.  She cuts the pancakes in half and drinks half the champagne as she always does, while telling me of new plotlines and chapters.