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.