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.