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