How a poet's math can turn 8 years into a golden anniversary, and more fun with numbers.
Plus, we're celebrating how a poem about the number 7 launched a long friendship, a writer's debut novel at age 88, and I'm inviting you to find the poetry in ages and aging.
You gave me forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Hello Dear Reader,
Welcome back to This Dream is a Poem, where we explore dreams, writing, and the places where they connect to spark inspiration and insight.
This week, my husband and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary. Which is happy news. Except for this:
I want to enjoy a Golden Anniversary with this guy. The only problem is that we got a late start on our lives together, so reaching that milestone isn’t really a thing.
But I’ve found a solution: I count our anniversaries in dog years.
Do the math: Each year of a dog’s life is equal to seven human years. Using that logic, we’ve now surpassed our 50th and have reached 56 years of tail-wagging-wedded-bliss.
Mystical math
As a poet, I am skilled with words. Not so much with numbers. Nonetheless, today’s post is all about counting, including:
How a poem about the number seven prompted a friendship that has spanned nearly two decades, and counting;
An invitation to celebrate the publication of a 1st novel by my friend and colleague (and author of the above-mentioned poem), Patricia Lee Lewis. Her new novel, by the way, was 15 years in the making, and has an official launch date of Nov. 15, which happens to be Patricia’s 88th birthday!
Plus, a writing prompt that honors the counting of years.
And for those who are numerically disposed, you can check out this note from my other online publication, where some mystical math reveals surprising hidden truths about love and death.
But first,
I’m counting on you
Thanks to all of you who have donated to my 30 Poems in November fundraiser, I’m now halfway to my goal of raising $500 for the Center for New Americans. 🎉 🎉 🎉
If you would like to learn more about this poem-a-day fundraiser and support this worthy cause, click here.
Counting on poems to help and heal
I first learned about Patricia Lee Lewis through her poetry book, A Kind of Yellow (Patchwork Farm Press). In it, she writes of a preacher’s daughter who became a mother before she even cleared her teens. Then, her son grows up and takes his life when he is barely much older than she was when he was born.
I picked up and put down that slender volume several times over the course of a year or more. That’s because I had endured five devastating years of no contact with my daughter, and I feared that Patricia’s poems of loss would re-awaken my own nightmare.
But then someone recommended that I invite Patricia to meet my students, who were teen mothers, as part of the poetry program and visiting writers series that I directed. At first, I hesitated. I wasn’t ready to fully face my own heartache. Yet, I knew that my students would benefit from the brave and tender beauty of the poems and from Patricia’s strength and courage.
In the end, we all did.
I invited Patricia to our school, and to prepare for her visit, I read her book along with my students. As they wrote their poems in response, I was inspired to keep writing my own.
Poetry, we affirmed together, has the power to crack our broken hearts open again, just enough so we can start to heal them.
Since that time, Patricia has been a teacher, mentor, and friend to me. Attending her writing workshops at her home nestled in the woods not far from where I live, and at retreats she led in Puerto Rico, Guatemala, and Maine, I experienced her unique way of teaching writing. She invited us to trust the subconscious and welcome random chance into our poetry and prose. This was a welcome and wonderful approach for me as a dreamer who loves to write.
PS: It was on one of those retreats that I began writing my Sarah poems, which, some 15 years later, are still enriching my heart and soul. As is my friendship with Patricia.
Celebrating with a cowgirl’s spirit
Patricia has just published her debut historical novel, Thorns of the Mesquite, which was 15 years in the making. The book launch takes place on November 15, her 88th birthday!
That’s what I call some numerical magic!
Patricia’s Thornes of Mesquite Book Launch takes place Saturday, November 15, 2025, 10:30 am, Florence Civic Center, 90 Park Street, Florence, MA.
Celebrate the book’s publication and enjoy a Cowgirl Breakfast of homemade biscuits, real butter, local peach preserves, and coffee. Learn more and order the book here.
Dream up a little something on the page
In her poem “Seven,” from her book A Kind of Yellow, Patricia Lee Lewis describes a child turning upside down on the monkey bars:
“Her pigtails pull against
her scalp as she lets her body go
in the early morning air.”
She goes on to build a scene with characters, sensory detail, a distinct sense of place, time, and transformation—all in just a couple of dozen lines.
The poem ends:
“She hangs in space, unexplored,
a planet slowly spinning.”
Your turn to write
Inspired by Patricia’s example, write about an age you (or your character) once were. Using all of the above descriptors, convey who you (your character) were, and who you (they) were becoming. (In 24 lines or fewer.)
Listen to the prompt
You can also find the prompt and share your writing here.
Who says a poem can’t change your life?
Of course it can!
More of my writing about Patricia Lee Lewis:
Read my profile of Patricia Lee Lewis in the Smith College Quarterly here.
As my teacher and mentor, Patricia helped me articulate my beliefs about the connections between dreams and writing. Here’s an excerpt from my book Dreaming on the Page, that talks more about that.
That’s all for now. Until we meet again, may you dream write, and be well,
If you find typos or mistakes in this post, that’s a good sign. To err is human after all—so any imperfections here let you know that this post was human-made. Nothing artificial about it.