A Closet Full of Peanut Butter

55 plus years of marriage down the drain She watches it spin and spin It is too much to process the pain Her mind usually a flurry No longer a need to hurry Her Husband departed on that sweet sad night The love of her life The peanut butter to her lettuce Is now out of sight He was a funny one of hers that man almighty Older and quiet Shy and afraid of the Hyatt Stuck in his ways Never turned a common phrase Grew up in the Great Depression Some habits die hard Or not at all Always left a good impression Ate a peanut butter lettuce sandwich everyday much to her appall She hated peanut butter Everything about it Not a lot of peanut butter growing up in 1940s Japan It always seemed like an awkward fit But it takes a lot to stand up against the man Even Though she abhorred it Her husband never bored of it The smell the taste that gluey ooooey stuck together like paste She collected a jar In the back seat of her car And did it all again for him Each and every shopping trip Finally, her husband’s dead A day she should have known would come But naturally is full of dread Now she stares out the window Out the car Out the door Out of her head What will I do with all of that peanut butter now?