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.