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£&***~~¨¨¨ 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. ¨~»***&£##
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£****»¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨¨¨~~~»**&
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&&&&***»~¨ we're off the season when the birds ¨~»***&&&&
##£&***»~¨ sing beautifully. these days it's just ¨~»***&£##
#&*»~¨¨¨¨¨ screeches, or calls for help. ¨¨¨¨¨~»*&#
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££**»~~¨¨¨ i think of the jackdaw i maimed ¨¨¨~~»**££
##£&***»~¨ yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ¨~»***&£##
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