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.