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