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.