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.