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Seven

I believe seven is a magical number, that things change or enter a new dimension after seven years.  Tonight the Winter Poem Exchange Party arrived on the mark.  Looking back, it was amazing how it started as a whim, and how it has grown into a poetic tradition.

Last night an email from someone unknown:  I’m a visiting poet from the UK and would like to come to your party.  She came, told us that she is visiting the States and goes to three poetry events a day.

New friends, poems, music, stories.  Two readings happened in tandem upstairs and down every hour.  In between we feasted on  scrumptious food.

“I wish this is what we do for a living,” said Steve Mackin.

It was a wish made today, the beginning of a new “seven”.  Let’s see what happens when we arrive at the next mark.

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