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¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£££ 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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£££
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££¨¨¨£¨¨¨¨ 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. £££¨¨£¨¨¨¨
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¨¨¨¨¨£££¨¨ we're  off  the  season  when  the birds ¨¨£££¨¨£¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨£¨££¨ sing beautifully. these days  it's  just ¨¨£¨££¨¨£¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£££      screeches, or calls for help.       ¨¨¨¨£££¨¨£
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¨£¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£ i   think  of   the   jackdaw  i  maimed ¨¨¨¨¨¨£££¨
¨¨£¨¨¨¨¨¨£   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   ¨¨¨¨¨¨£¨££
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