Daily I Fall in Love with Mechanics -- Susan Thurston

(Poem #203)Daily I Fall in Love with Mechanics Daily I fall in love with mechanics with their smudged coveralls and names embroidered over where their hearts just might be PETE STEWART RAY CHUCK BUTCH and thick soled boots. I love how they jack up my car and press the pneumatic drill to my tires and with hip press lean into the whir of liberation nuts and bolts falling released from so much spinning and holding everything tight in place. I feel their hands roughened by spark plugs and washer fluid yet sweetened by overflowing oil pans slide over me. Their arms and shoulders remind me of deep river valleys and other places where we could tumble after setting the parking brake... fumbling and clutching so melodiously I am left grateful for their engine knowledge. Daily I fall in love with mechanics with their grease smudged bad boy grins and come hither wide opening garage doors. They tell secrets in the pit and I want them. I know them. They slip belts back into place their legs diesel dark They have lovers or spouses or children  or all. They are strut bearing reliable— they know how timing belts twist. Their toothpick punctuated grins reassure you they are giving you the best deal in town and they would not let you drive without checking all your fluid levels. Daily I fall in love with mechanics. They are better than Free Air want my vehicle to be safe and sound but they never travel far enough before pulling the next car into the station. -- Susan Thurston