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.