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.