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.