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.