Blue Mason jars sit on the shelf in the small barn,
gathering dust, never refilled, empty.
She touches the jars,
seeing them filled with fruits of the harvest,
Born into freedom,
at liberty to roam,
explore all things.
Young, no skill to elude hunters.
Cat Killer Cat pounces,
Bringing food for the larder,
Purring, meowing. Piano Black keys, white keys call.
Fingers bent and twisted now,