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.