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.