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#.#.#.#.#.                                          .#.#..#..#
#.#.#.#.#.                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#.#.#.#. 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.   .#.#.##.#.
#.#.#.#.#.                                          .#.#..#.#.
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