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.