waiting, next to the pila

yesterday i stood in line waiting to wash my hands or brush my teeth or wash my dishes. whatever it was, i was waiting, next to the pila where we wash our clothes or clean fish, next to our shower where i always scrape my shin stepping out, next to our toilet stand where every third flush something breaks and we must take water from the pila to lower the water in the bowl. i was there, waiting for barbara to finish what she was doing, there below the criss cross of clothes line with wet and semi-wet clothes blocking vision, i looked up and out through the netting to the forest, the sun, a bird.

this will not always be. yet i am here.