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.