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.