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).