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.