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.