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.