I Thought You Were A Man Poem by Patti Masterman

I thought you were a man
Breathing such heavy air; as if a man;
Drinking heavy water, like men do

As if a man could- just by shifting,
Take up even more space,
Move things around, with his body's forcefulness, ,
His spirit's graceful fortitude;
As all that, I imagined of you, and more:

Even more things, that encompass a man,
But are not obvious to eye or ear,
Like resilience of touch, of a man;
Hair and sinew, strong bones under thicker flesh
Receding hairline, fumbling gentleness,
Powerful patience.

Saying less than he thinks,
Displaying less than he says,
Speaking volumes with action-
Or merely lack of action.

His judgments, perilous to challenge,
His verdicts, powerless to change,
His eye deliciously unblinking,
To draw down upon one.

And there were even more things,
In my imaginings;
For you grew tall and wide;
Irresistibly implacable,
Wide rollings of immutable courage.

Tall, like gleaming metal skyscrapers,
Unconquerable like stardust ever falling,
Steep smokestacks;
The fire and brimstone only faintly visible,
Through thin openings releasing belches, sparks
From subterranean alleys and byways.

A man, I thought; marvelous thing;
And just as I began to study you,
In earnest, record your rare, seismic vibrations
For posterity-

You sent that tiny scrawled note,
In half-sized mouse letters-
And you began to recede quickly then,
Much more than a crack, or hairline

Your concentric waves withdrawing from around me,
Spiralling smaller and smaller,
Till they were tiny and remote,
In the sighing distance, of your newfound remorse

Till the earth had ceased to quake
Under your step;
Till I could imagine then
Scooping you up, all cupped
Into the palm of one quivering hand-

But you were only a little boy, after all!
She had shrank you down to almost-nothingness
Under her constant watchful gaze,
Reduced the whole of you;
That wonderful, mysterious, precious
Somethingness, incredulity-of-being,
Of the all-gazing splendid,
Wonderment of a man

Into something so minute, it seemed
Almost a rumor now;
Refuted by sweating, over-dressed shouters
On podiums, trying to beat their sideways truths,
Into our fearful, rat-scurrying brains-

Until you were a faint, pale dot,
On the unbroken line of horizon-
And then you simply disappeared,
Without any sound
Like a bubble popping
Somewhere too far away
To ever affect anything
That dear to me, again.