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.