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.