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.