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.