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.