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.