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.