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.