¨¨¨¨¨§¨¨§¨                                          ¨§§¨¨¨¨§¨¨
§§§§¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨§§¨¨¨§
§§§¨¨§§§§¨                                          ¨§§¨¨¨¨§¨¨
¨§¨¨¨¨§§¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨§§¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨§§¨¨¨¨§                                          §§§¨¨¨¨§§§
¨§¨¨¨¨§§¨¨ 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.   §¨¨¨¨§§¨¨§
¨¨§§§§¨¨§§                                          ¨¨§§¨¨¨¨¨¨
§¨¨§§¨¨¨¨§                                          §¨¨¨¨§§§§§
¨¨¨¨¨¨§§¨¨                                          ¨¨§§¨¨§§§§
¨§§§§¨¨¨¨§                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨§§¨
¨¨§§¨¨§§¨¨                                          §§§§§§¨¨¨¨