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.