Hydrant (an acrostic poem)

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Heatwave sent summer shimmers flowing down the black pavement

Yet those crashing waves offered no respite from the oppression

Determined to find relief, she struggled with the large retaining nut

Realizing it was too tight, she called out for help

And yet no one came to the rescue because a firetruck came around the corner

Now she was scared that she was going to be in big trouble for even considering such a thing

That was assuaged when they pulled out an even bigger wrench and viola the water flowed

Mechanic (an acrostic poem)

Image: By Sicnag – 1964 Oldsmobile 442 2 door Hardtop, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45448417

Machine magician, doctor of octane studies, wrench whisperer

Every one of those titles match well with her engine grease pedicure

Changing the blown out head gasket of an Oldsmobile 442

Her wizardry breathed life back into that smoke belching dragon

And by the end it bent to her will, purring with all eight cylinders

Now ready to consume as much blacktop and gasoline as could be reached by the tip of the pedal

It was the masterful application of her sorcery and to celebrate its completion she pushed her mount to the max

Causing twin black streaks as evidence of her passing as she rode the beast into the distance

Digger (an acrostic poem)

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Dirt packed under his ragged fingernails

It was something he prided himself on

Grabbing the wrench he went back to work

Giving another shot at fixing the old backhoe

Even though the brand new one sat right next to it

Really didn’t want to let his dear friend go quite yet