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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. .§.§.§.§.§
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.§.§.§.§.§ 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. .§.§.§.§.§
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.§.§.§.§.§ we're  off  the  season when  the  birds .§.§.§.§.§
.§.§.§.§.§ sing  beautifully.  these days it's just .§.§.§.§.§
.§.§.§.§.§      screeches, or calls for help.       .§.§.§.§.§
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.§.§.§.§.§ i  think   of   the   jackdaw  i  maimed .§.§.§.§.§
.§.§.§.§.§   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   .§.§.§.§.§
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