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.