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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. ##££^/»,¨¨
¨,»/^££###                                          ###££^/»,¨
¨¨,»/^££## 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.   ###££^/»,¨
¨¨,»/^££##                                          ##££^/»,¨¨
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