IMages

Thru’ the teck and the

call and the beck 

and the heck of 

IT,

we occasionally wreck but

more often check

ourselves in 

time to rhyme again,

even as

the dusk brings no evening

of necessary peace.

But pix me a moment

of sudden release:

and then be my friend,

and in the end

be all tree …

… if we can.

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