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.