We met the British in the dead of winter.
 The sky was lavender

 and the snow lavender-blue.
 I could hear, far below,

 the sound of two streams coming together
 (both were frozen over)

 and, no less strange,
 myself calling out in French

 across that forest-
 clearing. Neither General Jeffrey Amherst

 nor Colonel Henry Bouquet
 could stomach our willow-tobacco.

 As for the unusual
 scent when the Colonel shook out his hand-

 kerchief: C'est la lavande,
 une fleur mauve comme le ciel.

 They gave us six fishhooks
 and two blankets embroidered with smallpox.

I find this poem slightly chilling, to be honest. It seems almost innocent until the final word, which suddenly makes the entire poem incredibly ominous. The half rhymes increase the growing sense of unease as the native Americans in Canada meet the British colonisers and the reader becomes gradually aware of all the consequences of this meeting. There is no real point of first contact between the two sides shown in the poem - the native American narrator is already able to describe the sky and snow as lavender, which blurs the narrative voice somewhat [That would have been through their earlier contact with the French, though. Still, I see Mel’s point -martin]. Muldoon makes full use of hindsight and poetic device to create a poem sinister yet political.

— Mel

Links

Biography of Muldoon:
http://www.interviews-with-poets.com/paul-muldoon/muldoon-note.html

Some Paul Muldoon pages:

http://www.uni-leipzig.de/~angl/muldoon/muldoon.htm

http://www.complete-review.com/authors/muldoonp.htm

A very readable interview:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/Archive/Article/0,4273,4185192,00.html