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.