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.