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.