,^-†%&¤¶##                                          ##¶¤&%†-^,
,^-†%&¤¶##                                          ##¶¤&%†-^,
,^-†%&¤¶##                                          ##¶¤&%†-^,
,^-†%&¤¶##                                          ##¶¤&%†-^,
,,,,^-%%¤¤                                          ¤¤%%-^,,,,
,^-†%&¤¶¶¶ 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.   #¤&%%†^,,,
,^-†%%%¤¶¶                                          ¶¶¤%%%†-^,
,,,-††%%&¤                                          ¤&%%††-,,,
,^-†%%%¤¤¶                                          ¶¤¤%%%†-^,
,^---†%&¶#                                          #¶&%†---^,
,^-†%&¤¶##                                          ##¶¤&%†-^,