To: Despair, in Mid-assembly, Watching, by Barbara Young

To: Despair, in Mid-assembly, Watching
By Barbara Young

the directions–translated
from Ikean
by evil elves–
go blowing off.

Should you chase it? A sad, wild-armed
pink, chaotic

Bury your face and cry? Quick, hide
the evidence;
pretend you don’t–
just sometimes– hope.

Barbara Young is aging without grace in Middle Tennessee. She thinks she’d like to be a poet if she grows up, but won’t bet on it. Her blogs went South for the winter holidays, may now be in Cuba.


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