We had oysters last night
Large oysters
Raw oysters 
On the half shell
Twelve oysters
Six for each of us
Four varieties 
Of PEI oysters
That’s 
Prince Edward Island
Three times four is twelve
So we had three of each
Of the four kinds
Forgive the foray
Into lower mathematics
Let’s return to the oysters
On the tray set between us
Oysters
Lemon wedges
Waiting to be squeezed
Dripping onto oysters
Open
On the half shell
That tray of pearly oysters
On their rough gray shells
Each set of three
Embraced by bright yellow
Sweet stingy lemon wedges
And on its own low pedestal
Just off center on the tray
A soft almost white
Mound of grated
Grated what?
Parmesan? No too soft looking
Mozzarella? No not soft enough
Having exhausted my current repertoire 
Of likely cheeses, I stretched forth my hand
Delicately pinched a single short string
From atop the elevated pile
Brought it slowly to my nose
Not cheese, not much smell really 
So I ate it
Horseradish
Thankfully pretty mild horseradish

Then came the intimate pleasure of eating the oysters.
But here is where we will discreetly employ that favored metaphorical device
And draw the curtain on our two young white-haired lovers
Facing each other’s eyes and hands and bodies
Across the small wooden table for two
In the small bar-restaurant
In a strip mall of all places 
In quiet off-season Niagara-on-the-Lake