§§§¨§¨§§¨§                                          §¨¨§§¨§¨§¨
¨§§¨§¨¨§¨¨                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨§§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨¨§¨¨                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨§§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨¨§¨¨ 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.   §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨¨§¨¨                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨§§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨¨§¨¨                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨§§¨§                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨
§¨§¨§¨¨§¨¨                                          §¨§¨§¨§¨§¨