Every day you trespass across my lawn eating a path through thick grasses I neglect to mow, and then you help yourself to the row of blackberries planted by no one I recall I know and now you bring your polka-dot twins who balance on hind foot tip toes to reach higher rows and then an almost inaudible click of the lens Captures absences not there a moment ago
Nina Haedrich
This article appears in Broken Trust.