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A Poem for Christmas

When the winter comes
And the land looks old,
And trees are sold
By ear-muffed men
At frozen still ice cream stands.

Everyone wants that piece of green
To celebrate that fateful day-
The day of Revolution
The day that fawned lion pits
And holy wars and jesus freaks
And priests and popes and schi~ms
And catholicism and protestantrsms-
Stop and look and pray
See what's passed away
When the winter comes.

-Frank LaFalse