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).