it isn't all black and white
the choke-hold of history
shades of red and brown
paint the scenery, too
the documented imagery
forgotten in the fray
a little big horn playing mournful
songs as the cavalry marches on
to the tune of galleons and guns
no passport required
when the port was young
émigré and immigrant
displacing native sons
who also once were pilgrims
breathing in the sun.