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.