i follow  the tire tracks west. they  go 
 parallel  with  the railroad,  with  its 
 endless mirrors  looking kinda oily.  an 
 incredible power bound there... there's  
 a  wire fence to separate the two roads. 
                                          
 even though there's a  foggy  quality to 
 the  air, the path  i follow is glowing. 
 a  yellow-green   moss  has  taken  hold 
 where   the  machines  who  made   these 
 tracks  once disturbed the clover field. 
                                          
 we're  off  the  season when  the  birds 
 sing  beautifully. these  days it's just 
       screeches, or calls for help.      
                                          
 i   think  of  the   jackdaw  i   maimed 
   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.