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.