By the dusty roadside, in the sweltering tropical sunUnder an old, leafless eucalyptus treeHe carefully rearranged his waresMaking some stand up facing the road, some sidewaysAnd others in shelves- dusted off and re-varnished.He stared vacantly far away, then pensively at the coffins.A sample casket with artistic design on displayWith a peeping glass strategically at eye-levelFor the dead to take a roll call of the living.For over a week now he has waited and waitedBut not a single client has shown up.A pick-up truck parked in front of his stallAnd he jumped up with expectation…But the driver swung his keys and hummed a tuneAnd descended to the charcoal stall, behind the coffins.His heart sunk with disappointment.Sweating from the noon day sun, hungry and thirsty