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.