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.