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.