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).