Woman To Man

A boy, bat in hand, you whistle down the street.

A girl, I giggle, for no particular reason.

What happens to that whistle, that giggle?

My laughter, not dammed up,

Still spills out, easily.

No one is surprised.

But what softens your heart,

Lets years of "gotta be tough"


Neck bared, belly exposed,

Long-stored yearnings unpacked,

Placed on a table, gazed at.

Will you become a grizzled old man--


Or nothing

In your eyes--

Not even sure what you missed

But never feeling as whole

As boyhood summers promised?

Let my tender eyes nurse you

My ears declare 'yes'

To each thought, each word.

Show me your carefree boy,

Your confident youth

Your care-worn man.

I want all of you.

Be with me, Man to Woman.

Moreah Vestan

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