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.