John O’Donohue: Beannacht
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.
George Drew: On Another Epic Trip Around the Sun
I was sixty and I was dancing with Jan,
my brother’s Queen of the Line Dance wife
Jose Padua: My Favorite Bartender in New York City
My favorite bartender in New York wasn’t
some hot young thing with a sexy foreign
accent but a woman in her 60s who’d say
“Nice to see youse guys”
Ella Wheeler Wilcox: Solitude
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Katy Giebenhain: Forget Beauty
Forget family, inheritance,
the name
of any mountain, holler,
creek, county, neighbor you know.
But especially, forget beauty.
Most Popular Vox Populi Posts for 2021
At the end of each year, I enjoy compiling a list of the Vox Vopuli posts which attracted the most viewers. This year, for the first time, I’m also noting the single most popular post in each category since VP was founded in April, 2014. If you see an author or title that looks interesting, I hope you’ll visit (or re-visit) the post. Thank you for being part of our community! — Michael Simms, editor
Rachel Hadas: Ghost guest
I sometimes think I recognize the face
of my own death. Knowing it is nearer
makes me feel it ought to be familiar,
a neutral guest I’ve seen somewhere before.
Richard Hoffman: Good Will and Salvation
hold your tongue
so nobody ever knows
or suspects your real
origins, your actual class
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Evening
Gone. Another day gone. Its chest-
shredding tragedies or frivolous whims equally
scavenged by dusk. Soon the wind will rest
in the messy trellis of my tree.
Michael Simms: Jesus
Sixteen and running
From my father’s fists
I once tried to jump on a moving train
Jericho Brown: Nativity
Come trouble’s birthday,
I think of every gift people get
They don’t use. Oh, and I
Pray.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Recuerdo
We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-
covered head,
And bought a morning paper which neither of us
read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and
pears,
and we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
Jason Irwin: Ouija Board
I asked When? And How?
I was thirteen. My cousin, twelve.
It said I would be 41.
The same age my mother was that Christmas.
Elvis was 42 when he died. Jesus, 33.
Peter Blair: Hibernation
Morning breaks
blue in the open spaces
through limbs
