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.