¨§¨¨§§¨§¨§                                          §§§§§¨¨§¨§
§§¨§¨§§§§§                                          ¨¨¨¨§¨§§§§
¨§§§§¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨§§§¨¨¨¨
§¨¨¨§¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨§¨¨§¨¨¨¨
§¨¨§§¨¨¨¨§                                          ¨§§¨§§¨¨¨§
§¨§¨§¨¨¨§§ 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.   §¨¨§¨§§§¨¨
¨¨¨§¨¨¨§¨§                                          §¨§§§¨¨§¨§
¨¨§§¨¨§§§§                                          §§¨¨§¨§§§§
¨§¨§¨§¨¨¨¨                                          ¨§¨§§§¨¨¨§
§§§§§§¨¨¨¨                                          §§§¨¨§¨¨§§
¨¨¨¨¨§¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨§¨§§¨§¨¨