The Poetry Corner

The Oyster

By Arthur Macy

Two halves of an oyster shell, each a shallow cup; Here once lived an oyster before they ate him up. Oyster shells are smooth inside; outside very rough; Very little room to spare, but he had enough. Bedroom, parlor, kitchen, or cellar there was none; Just one room in all the house - oysters need but one. And he was never troubled by wind or rain or snow, For he had a roof above, another one below. I wonder if they fried him, or cooked him in a stew, And sold him at a fair, and passed him off for two. I wonder if the oysters all have names like us, And did he have a name like "John" or "Romulus"? I wonder if his parents wept to see him go; I wonder who can tell; perhaps the mermaids know. I wonder if our sleep the most of us would dread, If we slept like oysters, a million in a bed!