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Late last night I heard the news

of the end of a tall, gentle-eyed man

with murderous evil in his heart

and thousands of deaths at his feet.

I watched for hours as the news poured in,

watched as people gathered

in front of the White House and at Ground Zero.

They cheered and chanted “USA! USA! USA!”

Was it my imagination, when I turned off the TV,

did I stand a little straighter?

Were my shoulders back a little farther?

Was the White House a little whiter?

Was Ground Zero a little brighter?

Did we return some swagger to our troops?

Today some ask if it is proper

to celebrate the killing of a man

who ordered the deaths of so many,

who caused the loss and maiming of many more,

who hid behind a woman in his final moments.

That is not why we celebrate.

We mark the years of grieving,

the suspicion that perhaps we weren’t equal to the task,

that maybe we’d slipped, that we were too soft.

The lungs that today expel the air

that passes through the larynges

that transforms those breaths to cheers

in celebration are not for the death

of a coward who sent others to do his evil.

Those cheers are for one purpose:

To lighten the souls of those we’ve lost,

and the hearts of we who mourn them,

that they might soar higher.

Yet, in my heart I feel

the life of my friend Chris

and of all the other lives lost because of this madman

are worth far, far more

than the lives of tens of thousands

of men with evil in their hearts.