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.