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.