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.