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.