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.