VOL. XIX, NO. 5
DECEMBER 16, 1977
Annual Combat
BY KEVIN BUSCH
Dressed in white, sneaking through the night
It comes upon us, sneaking down on us.
Casting an empty fullness in the light,
Tricking all who seek its demeaning trust.
Yet this demon in white does not travel alone.
These eviless demons hold a day's destiny
In their every move, more power than any weapon.
They run our lives behind our backs
Agony is self-inflicted by those who fight on
Against their harmless punch of ice.
Ice and snow blowing under winter winds wings.
Snow, white and glistening hiding the ice,
Clear and sinister. The wind holds many things,
None really bad, just evil to those who give advice
And warning of man‑mind made evils of winter.
The snow is an easy foe to beat, just shovel
Him aside. And all it takes is a grain of salt
To send the ice away and give him trouble.
Only the last of winter's Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Is hard to halt.
For winds will blow on until the last sound of the bell.
Dressed in white, sneaking through the night
It comes upon us, sneaking down on us.
Casting an empty fullness in the light,
Tricking all who seek its demeaning trust.
Yet this demon in white does not travel alone.
These eviless demons hold a day's destiny
In their every move, more power than any weapon.
They run our lives behind our backs
Agony is self-inflicted by those who fight on
Against their harmless punch of ice.
Ice and snow blowing under winter winds wings.
Snow, white and glistening hiding the ice,
Clear and sinister. The wind holds many things,
None really bad, just evil to those who give advice
And warning of man‑mind made evils of winter.
The snow is an easy foe to beat, just shovel
Him aside. And all it takes is a grain of salt
To send the ice away and give him trouble.
Only the last of winter's Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Is hard to halt.
For winds will blow on until the last sound of the bell.
