¨¨,-;§%¶##                                          ##¶%§;-,¨¨
¨¨¨,-;§%¶#                                          #¶%§;-,¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨,-;§%¶                                          ¶%§;-,¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨,-;§%                                          %§;-,¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨,-;§%¶                                          ¶%§;-,¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨,-;§%¶# 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.   ##¶%§;-,¨¨
¨,-;§%¶###                                          ###¶%§;-,¨
¨¨,-;§%¶##                                          ##¶%§;-,¨¨
¨¨¨,-;§%¶#                                          #¶%§;-,¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨,-;§%¶                                          ¶%§;-,¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨,-;§%                                          %§;-,¨¨¨¨¨