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.