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.