Saturday, January 03, 2026

New York Public Library’s Most-Borrowed Books Of 2025

 Ernest Hemingway once said:

"In our darkest moments, we don't need advice." What we truly need is presence, someone to sit with us in the shadows, to acknowledge our suffering without trying to fix it. In those moments, silence and understanding speak louder than words, offering a quiet strength that reminds us we're not alone. It's not solutions we seek, but connection.


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New York Public Library’s Most-Borrowed Books Of 2025

At the very top of the list is James by Percival Everett, the Pulitzer Prize–winning retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn told from Jim’s perspective. Close behind is Liz Moore’s The God of the Woods, a moody literary thriller that also landed on NYPL’s Best Books list last year. - Time Out New York

The Pacific Is the Sky

So torrents of the Seventh,
Fifth and Ninth. Riverbeds of
Bach, Beethoven and Amadeus
rapids of the sky, peaks and pastures


Estuaries and waterfalls of the Fourth
   tributaries and sounds
    of air, organs, summits
of Michimahuida, Aysén and oceans:


—The Pacific is the sky

Torrents of the sons of Espolón
 Yelcho, lake and surroundings:

—The sky of Chile alive,
spuming


The Pacific is the sky     bearing themselves then the rivers
that love each other     opening themselves

Like fans      swelling until they smash down in the waves
of the ocean that shatters over the horizon     They are the
ancient rivers note the men looking at them   No: they are
the tides of the sky answer the crests of the Pacific
squalls     coming on among the clouds

In the foreground     receiving the thousands of rivers
that once went to the encounter of those beaches     It
is the ocean they repeat coming in     No: they are the
beaches of the horizon     it is the snow     it is us rising
to find each other in the final torrent of all souls
the flayed of Chile scream revived among the waters
This is because I am the sky the Pacific repeats again
alive     blue     spuming with love above the mountains

—Translated from the Spanish by Anna 


Sonnet: Barbara Loots, ‘An Old Man Makes Chili for Lunch’

He shoves the onion pieces in a pile 
to one side as he chops and chops some more. 
This cutting board has lasted quite a while 
through salty tears of choppers gone before, 
but no use buying new equipment now. 
Sometimes there’s comfort in a kitchenette 
that holds what downsized spaces will allow 
of former habits. He will not forget 
those other hands that held this knife and chopped 
for slaw and meatloaf, casseroles and stew, 
and apple walnut salad. When they stopped, 
he stepped up, making chili, making do, 
sneezing on pepper, living on his own. 
He cooks for one, but never eats alone.


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