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.