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.