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.