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).