May 1,2011 Poem by Steven Federle

At nightfall
we wait for the news
disasters lurking, terror
wafting across the land,
like an acid wind

when we hear
that he is dead!
A sudden crowd fills the park
as though we won the super-bowl!
World Champions!
U S A!

I hear their voices
praising God for the bullets
that pierced his brow
and spattered his foul mind
down to a place
as dark
as his murdering
soul….
… but his soul!

Now he goes
to his center,
to face the One,
to face his victims,
to acknowledge the lives he shattered
and dip his hands into pools of innocent blood.

I feel the glow
of justice; but what about
my own soul?
“Love your enemy”
“Forgive those who
trespass against you”

I am not half
so good as that, but
in my guilty depth
I know
I must not revel
in this evil man’s
death.