Not really a poem

The following is going to look like a poem because I've separated short phrases by lines. However, this is because it looks prettier than connecting them with a series of commas and/or semi-colons. This non-poem is attempting to describe the scene at my compound several weeks ago (but only last week at the time I originally typed this up) when the sun had just set and everyone but me was moving around each other, but absorbed in individual tasks.

Sellu halfway finished praying

Amadou swinging a basket of coals

Fatou strapping Musa to her back

Hawa breast-feeding Sarjo

Bubacarr fetching water

Neene tying up the goats

And Rugi on her back, balancing a dalasi on her lips.