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.