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.