sunrise moonset

I don't remember ever

seeing an orange moon set

hanging just to the left of

the mountain princess,

the sleeping one the men who

kept watches on chains in their vests,

made up the story about.

They said it was an ancient tale

that belonged to the people

who had lived there

before they removed them

with guns, disease, and legislation.

This winter's dirty air

tinged the moon with pink

an ornamental flair

to ease the stink

of sentimental inventions:

a blend of Pocahontas,

and Sleeping Beauty.

a Victorian notion of maidenhood,

and the sweet afterglow

of expropriation.