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.