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.