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.