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.