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.