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.