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).