¨¨¨¨¨¨«†¤#                                          #¤†«¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨«;†§##                                          ##§†;«¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨«;;†§§#                                          #§§†;;«¨¨¨
¨¨¨,,«†¤¤#                                          #¤¤†«,,¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨«;¤§                                          §¤;«¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨,«;†¤§### 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.   ###§¤†;«,¨
¨,«;†¤§§##                                          ##§§¤†;«,¨
¨,«;†¤§###                                          ###§¤†;«,¨
¨¨¨¨«;;¤§§                                          §§¤;;«¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨,,,;¤¤#                                          #¤¤;,,,¨¨¨
¨,«;†¤§###                                          ###§¤†;«,¨