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.