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.