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.