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.