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).