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.