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.