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.