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.