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.