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.