,-«^*$¤@## ##@¤$*^«-,
,-«^*$¤@@@ @@@¤$*^«-,
,,,,«*$¤¤# #¤¤$*«,,,,
,,,,««^$@# #@$^««,,,,
,-«^***¤¤@ @¤¤***^«-,
,,,-«^^^$@ i follow the tire tracks west. they go @$^^^«-,,,
,,,,,--^*¤ 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. ¤***«,,,,,
,--«^^*¤@# #@¤*^^«--,
,-«^*$¤@## i think of the jackdaw i maimed ##@¤$*^«-,
,-«^*$¤@## yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ##@¤$*^«-,
,-«^*$¤@## ##@¤$*^«-,
,,,,--«^$¤ ¤$^«--,,,,
,-«^*$$¤¤# #¤¤$$*^«-,
,-«^$¤@### ###@¤$^«-,
,,,,,«^^*¤ ¤*^^«,,,,,