...##.#.#.                                          #..#.##...
..#.#.#.#.                                          #.##..#...
.##.#.#.#.                                          #..#.##...
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #.##..#...
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #..#.##..#
#.#.#.#.#. 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.   #..#.##.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #.##..#.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #..#.##.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #.##..#.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #..#.##.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          #.##..#.#.