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).