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.