,,,,,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,:                                          :,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,::                                          ::,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,::%                                          %::,,,,,,,
,,,,,,::%% 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.   ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,:                                          :,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,::                                          ::,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,::%                                          %::,,,,,,,
,,,,,,::%%                                          %%::,,,,,,