of
that old Chevrolet settled in weeds
at
the end of the pasture.
I'm
the radiator that spent its years
bolted
in front of an engine
shoving
me forward into the wind.
Whatever
was in me in those days
has
mostly leaked away,
but
my cap's still screwed on tight
and
I know the names of all these
tattered
moths and broken grasshoppers
the
rest of you've forgotten.