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.