As is his wont,
Dan, my younger son,
Took us out to celebrate
My seventy-ninth birthday.
James, the restaurateur,
Came over—
Congratulation, commiseration—
And queried my relationship
With chocolate.
As is my wont,
I ate six raw oysters,
A crab cake,
And munched on crudités.
James came through:
A complimentary
Chocolate mousse,
Rich, warm,
Whipped cream enhanced.
Unaccountably
Queasy through the night,
Fretting through the day,
What assailed?
An off oyster?
Crab too raw?
Unaccustomed,
Mousse and cream?
Whence the nausea, tears?
Malignant food,
Or just the weight
Of years?
(2/14/09)