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.