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.