¨¨¨§§¨¨§§¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨§¨¨¨
§§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          §§§§§¨¨¨§§
§¨¨§§§§§§¨                                          §§§§¨¨§¨¨§
¨¨¨¨§§§§¨¨                                          §§§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
§§§¨¨§§¨¨¨                                          ¨§¨¨§§§§§§
§§¨¨¨¨¨¨§§ 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.   ¨¨¨¨¨§§¨¨¨
§§¨¨¨¨¨¨§§                                          §§§§¨¨¨¨§§
§¨¨§§§§¨¨¨                                          §§§¨¨§§¨¨§
¨¨¨¨§§¨¨§§                                          §§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
§§§¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          §¨¨§§§§§§§
§§¨¨§§§§§§                                          ¨¨¨¨§§§§§§