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.