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).