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