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.