Line Camp Christmas

The cattle have all been fed,

  And Bowser’s lyin’ in his bed.

The fire crackles in the stove,

  The hackamore is finally wove.

He doesn’t have a Christmas pine,

  A tumbleweed will do just fine.

Tinsel from store-bought smokes,

  Good enough for most cowpokes.

Ornaments from cactus fruit,

   Strung up on cords of jute.

The window is all frosted up,

  Beans and bacon for his sup.

 Wind is blowin’ awful hard,

   Snow piles up by the yard.

He sings an old Christmas song,

  With his guitar he strums along.

Later on, the cow boss comes,

  With some porridge and some plums.

His whiskey they’ll be drinkin’ straight,

  There ain’t so much to celebrate.

In the night sky they see a star,

  Reminding them of who they are.

Just God’s children full of awe,

  Seeing what the angels saw.

A Holy night to stir the soul,

   The comfort of a warm bedroll.

It’s Christmas Eve and all is well,

  For those who on the prairie dwell.

LDT Christmas Eve, December 24, ‘24

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