§§¨¨¨¨¨¨§¨                                          ¨§§§¨¨§§¨§
¨§§¨¨¨¨¨¨§                                          ¨§¨§§¨§§¨§
¨§§§¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨§§¨§§¨¨
¨§¨§§¨¨¨¨¨                                          §¨¨§§¨§§§¨
¨¨¨§§§¨¨¨¨                                          §§¨§§¨§¨§§
§¨¨§¨§§¨¨¨ 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.   §¨§§¨¨¨§§§
§¨¨¨§§§¨¨§                                          ¨¨§§§¨¨§¨§
§§¨¨§¨§§¨¨                                          ¨¨§¨§§¨¨¨§
¨§§¨¨¨§§§¨                                          ¨¨¨¨§§§¨¨§
¨§§§¨¨§¨§§                                          ¨¨¨¨§¨§§¨¨
¨§¨§§¨¨¨§§                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨§§§¨