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).