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.