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.