I watched a lizard
Go after a single french fry that had fallen off my plate
In an empty outdoor cafe in Ghana
I wished him good luck as he latched on
And darted away with his prize.
Just before that
We had toured the shops
Where craftsmen create fantasy coffins,
These impossibly intricate, almost absurd caskets,
At least to my sullen and mediocre ideas of death.
Lions, crabs, racing cars, trees, shoes, airplanes,
Colors and shapes bursting out at you
Knowing no bounds; death ends limitations
Celebrating a life and taking it forward
To what comes after.
When that lizard dies
Would his coffin be that potato?
A favored tree limb or patch of ground?
Or that meaty insect that got away?
And what will he be
In his next life?