by Marcie Lynn Tentchoff
We used to mock and pity mortal woes,
Their mayfly lives the subject of our jest,
Until our feuding rulers came to blows
And vowed to put their armies to true test.
They bound frail mortal blood in faery breast,
And bound us too, to battle as they willed,
Such that, as ne'er before, we died and killed.
We godlings who had never feared Death's call,
Like mayfly humans saw our life's blood spilled
As war at last made corpses of us all.
Marcie Lynn Tentchoff
is an Aurora Award winning poet/writer from the west coast of Canada, where she lives in the middle of a rainforest with her family and various animals, both invited and not. Between the raccoons in the roof, the deer in the garden, the chocolate-stealing skunks, and the occasional visiting cougar, she's written poems and stories that have appeared in such magazines as On Spec, Weird Tales, Dreams and Nightmares,
, as well as in anthologies and online publications.
When asked what mask would be likely to choose her, she replied, "The mask that would choose me would be a half mask of twisted bramble vines and leaves, with every thorn a tiny silver dagger."
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