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?