#¤¤\,¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨,\¤¤#
#¤^^«««,¨¨                                          ¨¨,«««^^¤#
#@##¤^\«,¨                                          ¨,«\^¤##@#
#^\,,¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨,,\^#
@###¤^\«,¨                                          ¨,«\^¤###@
###^«¨¨¨¨¨ 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.   ¨,««\\^^##
#¤¤\\,¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨,\\¤¤#
#@##¤^\«,¨                                          ¨,«\^¤##@#
#^«¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨«^#
##¤¤¤^\«,¨                                          ¨,«\^¤¤¤##
##@#¤^\«,¨                                          ¨,«\^¤#@##