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.