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.