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.