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.