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.