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.-«^§£&#@# 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. ###&£§^«-.
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....«^§££# 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.      ###&£§^«-.
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.-«^§§£&&@ i   think  of   the   jackdaw  i  maimed @&&£§§^«-.
.-«^§§§£##   yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate.   ##£§§§^«-.
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