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.