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By Sarah Thursday

rust was the death of us
oxygen and iron
weather and time

hundreds of holes
have been patched
and painted over

restorations aren’t made
of well-meanings
but of follow-throughs
and time-committed

we were not
the timeless classic
we set out to be

admit it
we’ve both been
driving other cars for years

our weakened frame became
overgrown by weeds
and nesting birds
while rust spread
under the belly of us

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