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.