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££*====~^¨ 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. ¨^~=*£@£@#
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##£@£*=~^¨ 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. ¨^~=*£@£@#
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@*=^¨¨¨¨¨¨ we're  off  the  season  when the  birds ¨¨¨¨¨¨^=*@
#@£@£*=~^¨ sing beautifully. these days  it's  just ¨^~=*£@£@#
@@@*===~^¨      screeches, or calls for help.       ¨^~===*@@@
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@££=^¨¨¨¨¨ i   think  of  the   jackdaw   i  maimed ¨¨¨¨¨^=££@
@££*~¨¨¨¨¨   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   ¨¨¨¨¨~*££@
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