##¤§§§*»^, ,^»*§§§¤##
###¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤###
#§§§§§*»^, ,^»*§§§§§#
###¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤###
###¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤###
###¤§§*»^, 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. ,,,,^**§##
#§§*»^,,,, ,,,,^»*§§#
##¤¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤¤##
##¤§§§*»^, ,^»*§§§¤##
###¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤###
###¤§§*»^, ,^»*§§¤###