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.