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.