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.