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.