I have been looking at my old travel photos,

and the Cambodians

began to march

out

from the prints and

into my office,

my house,

my yard,

popping up everywhere.

I found them in corners

and on shelves,

in the weeds

and in the limbs of trees, waiting

at the window or

staring at me

from the porch.

I photographed them

because I could not answer their questions.