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).