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.