Sunday, April 16, 2017

His Airness

We wanted to be like him, we wanted to fly, 
To soar from the free throw line, eager to try. 
It was all so unreal, the way he moved through the air, 
Like space was his own, his reach so unfair. 
He cut through the defense like it didn’t exist, 
Blinding the opposition with a hanging assist 
That came from a place where the court wasn’t real, 
Nay, some netherworld that breeds muscles surreal. 
The skill we admired, the moves we tried to mimic, 
His shot fell through the rim of the world heroic. 
 
Yet we most envied that presence of mind, 
That austere calm which elevated him in endgame 
To heights beyond the realm of mere talent, through 
The Gates of Victory, where Glory beheld his 
Mightiest ambitions, polished up his trophies in eon wax, 
Lifted him off his feet to parade through history 
Like he’d launched himself into the air for a slam. 

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