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.