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.