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.