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.