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.