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.