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).