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).