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.