¨-----**%@ @%**-----¨
¨-«*%§@@@# #@@@§%*«-¨
¨-«*%§@@## ##@@§%*«-¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨-*%@ @%*-¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨-«*%§@@@# #@@@§%*«-¨
¨¨¨«*%%§@@ 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. ##@@§%*«-¨
¨-«*%§@@@# #@@@§%*«-¨
¨¨¨¨«*%§@@ @@§%*«¨¨¨¨
¨¨--**§@@@ @@@§**--¨¨
¨¨¨«*%%%§@ @§%%%*«¨¨¨
¨-«*%§@@@# #@@@§%*«-¨