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.