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.