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.