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