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£%%:»,¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨¨,»:%%££#
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#££%%:»,¨¨ 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. ¨¨¨¨,»:%%£
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#££%%:»,¨¨ we're off the season when the birds ¨¨,»:%%££#
##££%%:»,¨ sing beautifully. these days it's just ¨,»:%%££##
#££%%:»,¨¨ screeches, or calls for help. ¨¨,»:%%££#
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£%%:»,¨¨¨¨ i think of the jackdaw i maimed ¨¨¨¨,»:%%£
%%:»,¨¨¨¨¨ yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ¨¨¨¨¨,»:%%
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