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.