.~«*$&@###                                          ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@##                                          ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@#                                          #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@##                                          ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@###                                          ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@## i follow  the  tire tracks west. they go ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@# parallel  with  the railroad,  with  its #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@## endless mirrors looking  kinda  oily. an ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@### incredible power bound there... there's  ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@## a wire fence to separate the  two roads. ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@#                                          #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@## even though there's a foggy  quality  to ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@### the air, the  path i  follow is glowing. ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@## a  yellow-green  moss  has  taken   hold ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@# where  the  machines  who   made   these #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@## tracks once  disturbed the clover field. ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@###                                          ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@## we're  off  the  season  when  the birds ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@# sing  beautifully. these days  it's just #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@##       screeches, or calls for help.      ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@###                                          ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@## i  think   of  the   jackdaw  i   maimed ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@#   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@##                                          ##@&$*«~..
.~«*$&@###                                          ###@&$*«~.
..~«*$&@##                                          ##@&$*«~..
...~«*$&@#                                          #@&$*«~...
..~«*$&@##                                          ##@&$*«~..