…The multi-year bowl.
Sparked in ’25, in ’26 became coals. My
pipe was once hot, now it’s cashed out and cold. I’ll
never forget that sweet multi-year bowl. I’ll

carry it’s memory close to my soul.
In my left pocket, in a worn tri-fold is a
photo of that warm, spry multi-year bowl. Remi-
nisce long after it was ashed out and old.