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.