Copyright ©2004 Cow Camp Missy  

No one knows exactly where Snow Rider's horse can go,
They saddle fast and disappear in prime-time winter snow

Through deep drifts, across the ice to a camp not very near
They stop to rest the horses, drink full-up and give a cheer!

"Bravo, Horses! Bravo, Men! Hooray, and snap that quirt!"

Whiskey flows down throats and beards and, finally, to the dirt
As thoughts are formed from words that seek to heal whatever hurts
Drawn to light and fire silent dwellers from the wood
Witness broken dreams repaired and turned around for good

Such mysteries Snow Rider hopes soon to understand ...
But that comes with experience . . . and rarely to a man.

Cow Camp Missy