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.