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.