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.