Photo A.M. Moscoso

I used to visit my friend here- my dog Sham is buried under the trees.

My friend died, her Mom moved away years ago.

Sham is even gone, I suppose

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I used to play in the woods here, I won my first fist fight here, smoked my first cigarette here.

It’s all gone now.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I was here, once upon a time.

Now I’m just an echo, waiting to be heard.