¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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.   «~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~                                          ~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨