Sitting on the front porch
In humid, hazy June
Waiting for a thunderstorm
To wash the afternoon
Savoring the crunch and goo
Of tasty summer treat:
Crispy, pale green celery sticks
With peanut butter to eat
Lounging there my friend and I
Would dine and watch the world,
Chattering of what we liked.
Our fate as friends unfurled.
Shattered idealism --
Perplexity revealed,
Finding bitter truth in us
That once had been concealed.
Peanut butter bias
Would break our friendship's dream
For she preferred the crunchy
And I ate only cream.
She moved away and we
Were done. We'd had enough.
Never could I understand
How she could eat that stuff.
Celery and Peanut Butter
Poem