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.