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.