§¨¨¨§§¨¨§§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§ 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.   §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨¨§¨§¨§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨