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.