alvar west coast          
 going  south  by  the  rocky  shore. the 
     montaneous shore, the cliffs and     
      ravines, and the oceans raving.     
 watch your step or,  or  your wheels, if 
 youre  such  a  being,  for to the  west 
 lies  the  sea.  and  to  the  east  are 
 thorny bushes, large  as trees  but also 
   miniscule, camouflaged in the grass.   
     old territories poke through and     
 resurface.  never mind  them, but  maybe 
 the  beauty  in  their  walls   tell  us 
 something.  i admire the way they strech 
 over  the  land  to the eastern  shores, 
       but never north, never south.      
 the  road is old  and broken,  and would 
 stress  your joints, even if you were to 
 never  leave  it   (which  you  should).