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