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.