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).