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).