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.