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.^~*%££### 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.   ###££%*~^.
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