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).