No one knows
how long that jar had been there
collecting pennies and
singing to itself.

No one saw it
get up and dance,
but it was obvious
that it danced

in the gray, dewy hours
when no one was awake,
not even the parking garage attendant
or the guy hosing off the sidewalk

outside the place that sold
lottery tickets and outmoded cell phones.
No one could remember
what the jar sang,

no one recalled its tune,
after it got up and left one morning,
taking with it all the pennies, songs, and dances
it could contain.