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.