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.