(From the Indiana years)

Yesterday, I found out that a man I helped keep in prison for the next 20 years will be staying there.  The case I won on appeal was denied further review by the Minnesota Supreme Court. I wrote a poem about this man earlier in the summer.  It was defiant and vengeful.  I no longer feel that way.  

Now I wonder how different I am from him. I thought that wanting to be a prosecutor would satisfy my heart – to make up for the wrongs that I have seen.  But I do not think that is so.  We are supposed to be the good guys, the avenging angels, but in moments like this I do not take glory or solace in that line of thinking. I dream of being a hero.  But I neglected to see the costs of being one and how difficult it is to be one.  To steal a line from a friend’s page and from Moulin Rouge, I think all I want is to love and be loved in return.