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.