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,&,,&,,&,&                                          ,&,&,&,&,&
,&,&&,&&,, 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.   ,&,&,&,&,&
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