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.