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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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