A quick glimpse back at older posts today to make sure I hadn’t written another called “Seven.” And  I haven’t. “Seven Times Seven.” “Mornings at Seven.” But not just “Seven.” So here we go.

Seven is not the time, though close; it’s 7:40 this instant. Seven is not the number of days or weeks or months until something important happens.

Seven is the temperature outside. Seven, which divides evenly into 28, which is today’s date. February 28. Almost March. And it’s seven.

I will say no more.