.........: :.........
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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. #¶£%†\~:..
...:~\†%£¶ ¶£%†\~:...
....:~\†%£ 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. ..........
.......... ..........
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