¨¨¨¨¨::\^& &^\::¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨~~\^@¶¶ ¶¶@^\~~¨¨¨
¨:~\^@@@@¶ ¶@@@@^\~:¨
¨:~\^@&¶@# #@¶&@^\~:¨
¨:~\^@&¶@# #@¶&@^\~:¨
¨:~\^@&¶@# 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. #@¶&@^\~:¨
¨::~~~\^@& &@^\~~~::¨
¨:~\\^@@&¶ ¶&@@^\\~:¨
¨:~\^@&¶@# #@¶&@^\~:¨
¨:~\^@&¶@# #@¶&@^\~:¨
¨¨¨¨¨~^^^& &^^^~¨¨¨¨¨