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).