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.