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.