we can fix this

i'd see my father

out on the street staring

at the engine

of his car,

the hood up on the blue

Chevrolet.

sometimes he had a cup

of coffee with

him,

some tools,

maybe a small radio

would be playing.

i'd get dressed and go

out and stare

into the engine with him.

happy as a clam

to do so.

we can fix this, i'd

quietly say.