###£¤%†~,¨                                          ¨,~†%¤£###
##£¤%†~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~†%¤£##
#£¤%†~,¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨,~†%¤£#
£¤%†~,¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨,~†%¤£
¤%†~,¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨,~†%¤
%†~,¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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.   ¨,~†%¤£###
##£¤%†~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~†%¤£##
#£¤%†~,¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨,~†%¤£#
£¤%†~,¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨,~†%¤£
¤%†~,¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨,~†%¤
%†~,¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨,~†%