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.