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).