I Thought You Were A Man

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.