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.