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.