Looking from the balcony I watch
while he moves down the path
salaaming sideways, cheap
rubber sandals gripping pebbles,
sharp, painful to tender bare feet,
but familiar points for him.
On his head balances a large sack
commonly used for fresh rice, now
filled with fodder for two lean cows
and while the rain continues to fall,
I see him kneel down, releasing
the burden from his head, shaking
water from his tattered straw hat,
the kind sold with matching handbags
to tourists strolling by, large umbrellas
held over rain gear and travel clothing,
more money spent on one outfit
than he earns all year.