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