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.