Darlene Young’s Count Me In

Count Me In is my third collection of poetry. My first two, published by By Common Content Press, were very much centered on my personal experience as a middle-aged LDS mother. This one, published by Signature Books, is a little less specific to that experience, and includes a wider range of subjects, though some of the poems are centered in the LDS culture. What holds these poems together in a collection is a sense of investigation into and appreciation for the details of the world.

The first poem introduces the theme of working through how to judge oneself, rejoice in one’s worth separate from how one is performing in the world. Having been raised in the Church, I’ve always had a sense of the need to push forward, improve myself. This is a good thing, but I think it carries with it a sometimes-destructive implication that we are never acceptable the way we are. I’m getting older now and realizing that always emphasizing to myself the ways I’m falling short isn’t the best motivation for showing up in the world and in my faith. I’m exploring ways to accept and enjoy myself—and the world—while still pushing for progress. The collection ends with a poem of longing but also rejoicing (and doesn’t that phrase describe Mormonism in general–longing and rejoicing?) as I express my desire to be God’s back-up singer.

The title of the collection, Count Me In, refers to my decision to participate—in the world, in relationships, and, yes, in a religious faith. I hope that the collection, as a whole, gives a feeling of the weighing of variables, the exploration of possibility—but, also, resolution. The world is messy—people act up. Bodies age. A beloved cat dies. But we show up, finding things to love, finding joy in the details.

Count Me In

There are days when, visiting a depressed friend, I find
her houseplants are dying in the background
while she claims all is well
but also days when the morning percolates
in carnation pink glory behind and above
the smog, dewbangling the cobwebs.

Some days the smell of dirty snow, grim with the sins
of the city, makes everything taste of pity, mis-strung and trite,
but some days the sweet pale call of wind in spruces
summons me, though I’m not sure—don’t even want to be sure—
what it’s calling me to.

What a world, sodden with polkas and quick loans,
graffiti and gummy bears.
But the shook foil! The creek-cooled watermelon!
This grand, sad trunk-or-treat,
junk drawer of twist-ties and twine—
I still crave it, lick the back of the spoon.
The brindled shiver of a curtain in a drowsy afternoon,
bumblebees and Crackerjack, a toddler putting
his whole fist through the middle of his birthday cake:
enough! I’m snagged, in for the long haul
tap-dancing until the curtain call.

Reprinted courtesy of Signature Books

Darlene Young, in addition to publishing in numerous literary magazines, has published two previous collections: Here (BCC Press, 2023), and Homespun and Angel Feathers (BCC Press, 2019), which won the Association for Mormon Letters Award for poetry. She is the recipient of the Smith-Pettit Foundation Award for Outstanding Contribution to Mormon Letters and teaches writing at Brigham Young University. She has served as poetry editor of Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought and Segullah. Her work has been noted in Best American Essays and nominated for Pushcart Prizes. She lives in South Jordan, Utah.