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.