¨§¨§§¨§¨§§                                          §¨¨¨¨¨§§§¨
¨§§§¨§§§§¨                                          §§¨¨¨¨§¨¨§
§§¨¨§§¨¨¨§                                          §¨§¨¨¨§§¨§
¨¨§¨§¨§¨¨§                                          ¨§§§¨¨§¨§§
§¨§§§§§§¨§                                          ¨§¨¨§¨§§§¨
§§§¨¨¨¨¨§§ 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.   ¨¨¨§¨¨§§¨¨
¨¨§§§§¨§¨¨                                          §¨¨§§¨§¨§¨
¨¨§¨¨¨§§§¨                                          ¨§¨§¨§§§§§
§¨§§¨¨§¨¨§                                          ¨§§§§§¨¨¨¨
§§§¨§¨§§¨§                                          ¨§¨¨¨¨§¨¨¨
§¨¨§§§§¨§§                                          ¨§§¨¨¨§§¨¨