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.