¨&¨&¨¨¨&¨¨ &¨¨&¨¨¨¨&¨
¨¨¨¨&¨¨¨&¨ ¨&¨¨&¨¨¨¨&
&¨¨¨¨&¨¨¨& ¨¨&¨¨&¨¨¨¨
¨&¨¨¨¨&¨¨¨ ¨¨¨&¨¨&¨¨¨
¨¨&¨¨¨¨&¨¨ ¨¨¨¨&¨¨&¨¨
¨¨¨&¨¨¨¨&¨ 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. ¨¨&¨¨&¨¨&¨
¨¨¨&¨¨&¨¨¨ &¨¨&¨¨&¨¨&
&¨¨¨&¨¨&¨¨ &&¨¨&¨¨&¨¨
¨&¨¨¨&¨¨&¨ ¨&&¨¨&¨¨&¨
¨¨&¨¨¨&¨¨& ¨&&&¨¨&¨¨&
&¨¨&¨¨¨&¨¨ ¨&¨&&¨¨&¨¨