I drove my old car to the
junkyard today, and
as I walked away, after
receiving twenty dollars for pay, the
junkyard dog walked
behind me, and
he seemed to say
that he protects each spirit.

A junkyard dog
guards dead cars, and
honors their grave, protecting them
from scavengers: those who don't pay.

While I was driving my old car, on her last day, she acheived
sixty then seventy
miles an hour speed.
Near death not wanting to die,
I think she wanted to play, but
I drove her to her grave.

She was unstable
swerving back and forth.
A spirit in metal with
all the vibrations that decay