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.