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.