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.