My Life In Sevens -Part Four

I am seventy-seven. It’s a hot, summer day in Florida in 2019. I have just finished raking our backyard. The carrot wood and live oak trees have littered The lawn with their leaves. I rake them into neat piles and put them into bags. With each stroke of my rake, I hear Guy’s laughter and I see Old Man Ironton Peeking through the curtains of his mansion Watching us and wishing, like me, he were young again. I walk into our neat, tidy bedroom, Change into my bathing suit, And jump into the pool. My orange noodle becomes my inner tube, As I relish my new cold, sassy hole. Later tonight, we’ll strap ourselves Into Ziggy, our classic, 1991 BMW convertible. When I push down on the accelerator, I’ll feel the engine purr As I point us down the highway On our way to get a hot fudge sundae At the local ice cream parlor. I’ll put in my Beatle’s “Rubber Soul” cassette tape, Turn the volume up really loud And fill the air with the sounds Of them singing “In My Life”. It reminds me There are people and places that I will always remember. Some have gone, yet some remain, Forever cherished in my memory. Seven, fourteen, twenty-one, seventy-seven. My life in sevens. I am smiling as we drive off into the sunset. And life is very good.