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.