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.