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£$†=====-¨ i follow the tire  tracks west.  they go ¨-=====†$£
#@££$†^=-¨ parallel  with  the railroad,  with  its ¨-=^†$££@#
££††=-¨¨¨¨ 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 ¨¨¨-=^††££
@@££$†^=-¨ tracks once disturbed the  clover field. ¨-=^†$££@@
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#@££$†^=-¨ we're  off  the  season when  the  birds ¨-=^†$££@#
@@££$†^=-¨ sing beautifully. these  days it's  just ¨-=^†$££@@
££†††==¨¨¨       screeches, or calls for help.      ¨¨¨==†††££
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##@£$†^=-¨ i   think  of  the  jackdaw   i   maimed ¨-=^†$£@##
#@££$†^=-¨   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   ¨-=^†$££@#
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