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.