@@¨¨@@¨¨¨@ @@@@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ @@@@¨@¨@@¨
@@¨@¨@¨@@¨ ¨@@@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ @¨@@¨@¨@@¨
@@¨@¨@¨@@¨ @¨¨@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ 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. @¨¨@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ @¨@@¨@¨@@¨
@@¨@¨@¨@@¨ @¨¨@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ @¨@@¨@¨@@¨
@@¨@¨@¨@@¨ @¨¨@¨@¨¨@¨
¨@¨@¨@¨¨@¨ @¨@@¨@¨@@¨