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.