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.