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.