Me, my pipe and I
Last night I sat on the back porch nursing a cold Wicked Ale and smoking my pipe. I climbed up on the boys swing set fort thing and peered over the fence into the neighbor's yard, out over the back into the field, over the other side, across the driveway and into the next two yards.... nothing. nothing was moving. The wind was slightly brusing my face, but the limbs of the trees were all motionless. No dogs, no cats no kids (did I mention I was home alone) no birds, no car sounds. Just the high clouds passing swiftly as the moon played peek-a-boo. I finally reached the bottom of the bowl, the tobacco all ash I tipped it over the edge of the fort railing and tapped the curve to shake out the gray dust. In a watch-tick the bowl end second slipped off the black mouth piece and dropped into the darkness below.