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.