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