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.