....:~:%*@                                          @*%:~:....
.....:~:%*                                          *%:~:.....
......:~:%                                          %:~:......
.....:~:%*                                          *%:~:.....
....:~:%*@                                          @*%:~:....
...:~:%*@# 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.   %:~:......
.....:~:%*                                          *%:~:.....
....:~:%*@                                          @*%:~:....
...:~:%*@#                                          #@*%:~:...
..:~:%*@#@                                          @#@*%:~:..
.:~:%*@#@#                                          #@#@*%:~:.