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.