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.