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.