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.