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.