A Poem by Monica Youn

by Mark Bibbins, Editor


Of course Slightly was the first to get his word in. “Wendy lady,” he said rapidly, “for you we built this house.”
“Oh, say you’re pleased,” cried Nibs.
“Lovely, darling house,” Wendy said, and they were the very words they had hoped she would say.
“And we are your children,” cried the twins.
Then all went on their knees, and holding out their arms cried, “O Wendy lady, be our mother.”
“Ought I?” Wendy said, all shining. “Of course, it’s frightfully fascinating, but you see I am only a little girl. I have no real experience.”

Peter and Wendy (J.M. Barrie, 1911)


Monica Youn is the author of Blackacre, which is forthcoming from Graywolf Press in September 2016, Ignatz, which was a finalist for the National Book Award, and Barter. She teaches at Princeton and lives in Manhattan.

You will find more poems here. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.