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.