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.