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.