Blue Moon Christmas (Continued)

But she would not even read it – she knew what lay within— A red rage toward her country now the fire that was her friend. Yet just a few days later on a now black Christmas Eve— Another knock was heard from a cowboy come home on leave. And Jim Blue Moon stood on the porch with presents in one arm, A proof against dark forces wishing all of us great harm. He said like Twain, news of his death was exaggerated— And with smiles his wife helped him in, and they celebrated. Yet in the haze of happiness and all her loving care, Only now did Liz realize Blue’s left arm was not there. But snatching life from death’s dark rider is a precious thing, And nothing could dispel the joy their reunion would bring. Then came the new Christmas day, which now seemed so clear and bright— Yet Blue held back - flexed his cold metal arm in morning light. “I wonder if it was worth it?” Blue mumbled at the sight— But Liz nodded and said: “Yes, you did the thing that was right.” Then they slowly opened presents - three united again— Later dad and mom came over, and each rodeo friend. “PBR’s done,” dad whispered in a voice like from the grave— “Heck no!” Blue then replied, “I just lost the arm that I wave!” Sure enough, with prosthetic arm, Blue rode the bulls once more— Till he volunteered to go back to that faraway shore. Alone, Jim’s wife held their child and the inner one so new— As a full, pale Christmas moon rose and slowly turned to blue.