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.