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.