The creature was a changeling child -
only a fool would woo her.
Though neighbors cautioned him, beguiled,
the love-lorn man pursued her.
And still she fled him, milkweed-light
with thistled laughter. When they were wed
he shrank beside her through each night,
fearing the stranger in his bed,
dreading a tap upon the pane,
an eager footstep on the stair.
One night of gentle April rain
her strangled her with her golden hair.
