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.