:«,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,«:
«,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,«
,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,
«,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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.   ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,
«,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,«
:«,¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,«:
$:«,¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨,«:$
&$:«,¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨,«:$&
§&$:«,¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨,«:$&§