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@@@¤*-,,,, 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. ,,,,,,,,-*
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,,,,,,,,,, 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. ,,,,,,,,,,
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,,,,,,,,,, we're off the season when the birds ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,, sing beautifully. these days it's just ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,, screeches, or calls for help. ,,,,,,,,,,
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*-,,,,,,,, i think of the jackdaw i maimed ,,,,,,,,-*
¤*-,,,,,,, yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ,,,,,,,-*¤
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