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.