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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?
Copyright ©
Rylee Marr
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