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.