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.