¨¨¨¨¨§§¨¨¨                                          §§§§¨¨¨§§§
¨§§§¨¨¨¨§§                                          §§§¨¨§¨¨§¨
¨¨§¨¨§§¨¨§                                          ¨§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨§§§§§§§
¨¨§§§§§§§¨                                          ¨§¨¨§§§§§§
¨¨¨§§§§§¨¨ 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.   §§¨¨§§¨¨§§
¨§§¨¨§¨¨§§                                          §¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨§                                          ¨¨§§§§§§§§
¨§§§§§§§¨¨                                          §¨¨§§§§§§¨
¨¨§§§§§¨¨§                                          ¨¨¨¨§§§§¨¨
§¨¨§§§¨¨¨¨                                          ¨§§¨¨§§¨¨§