Touch the lucid window glass
Within the pantry walls
Where peaches glow in amber gold
And glimpse beyond the ugly cold
Beyond the lucid, painful glass
And lonely concrete halls…

Life inside a Mason jar,
I'm best in chilly Fall.

Touch the bleary window glass
Where nascent dust begins
Beyond the angry pickles' gaze
And gasp
And fear
Inside the murky, murky haze
Paying for their sins…

Life inside a Mason jar,
They're best in chilly Fall.

Touch the dirty, quiet glass
Outside the pantry walls
Where cabbage hide behind a mask
Ignore the carrots' cries
And fail, too, to break the glass
Bleary, lucid, dirty glass
Painful, weeping , sleeping pane
In lonely concrete halls…

Life inside a Mason jar
We're best in chilly Fall…

We're best in chilly Fall