Zizou (Zidane) | a poem

The dancer from Marseille,
weaving through numbered obstacles
and ducking under the swinging flail of an arm
while keeping the treasured ball close to foot,
would turn every head in newborn wonder,
light every face with a young expectation,
and hack and scrape away remnants of the real world,
his spectators forgetting everything else for 90 minutes,
as if he played the magician
waving his hands, manipulating minds,
and commanding the awe of his audience.