Two Weeks

Our family let in the squatters
into the empty house next door.
A couple, quiet and gentle;  
and a woman, warm,
with colourful hair and a loud laugh.

Stopping by the house on the way home from school,
we sat on the doorstep with her,
making friendship bracelets and talking.

They took us to the fair, the man
carrying me on his shoulders.

She came to say goodnight,
leaning in to hug,
smelling of incense,
and left.

They were next door for two weeks
and then moved on.
But they stayed inside me,
enduring.