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.