§§¨¨¨§¨¨§§ §§§¨§¨§¨¨¨
§¨§¨¨§§¨§¨ ¨¨¨§§§§§¨¨
§§§§¨§¨§§§ ¨¨¨§¨¨¨¨§¨
§¨¨¨§§§§¨¨ §¨¨§§¨¨¨§§
¨§¨¨§¨¨¨§¨ ¨§¨§¨§¨¨§¨
¨§§¨§§¨¨§§ 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. ¨¨¨§§§§§¨§
¨¨§§¨§§§§§ ¨¨¨§¨¨¨¨§§
§¨§¨§§¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨§§¨¨¨§¨
§§§§§¨§¨¨¨ §¨¨§¨§¨¨§§
¨¨¨¨¨§§§¨¨ §§¨§§§§¨§¨
¨¨¨¨¨§¨¨§¨ ¨¨§§¨¨¨§§§