Moving On, Not Moving On I think I knew our new home was two states west of home. But what...
All Flesh Is Grass The days passed quickly, back then, though some hours lingered in that hot hospital room, waiting,...
The day we buried Grandpa, the town flooded. Streams of rain rushed through streets carrying earth stolen from grain roots....
This three-part installment follows Donna as she and the surrounding community try to solve what has killed her calf. Donna...
Coals The abandoned farm is a black pool aaaaaaain the memory of the forest beyond. The road goes by never...
The bustle of aunts, uncles, and cousins crammed inside Mamaw’s tiny wooden house scraped against David’s sixteen-year-old sensibilities. Piled on...
“Horses make a landscape look beautiful.” – Alice Walker My dad kept some Arabian horses for a time, when...
In 1980, the year I worked for the Census, there were over 30 days when even the nighttime temperature was...
Hindsight isn’t up close as a rearview mirror. It’s unearthed, like the little blue boot turned up by the tractor...
At five-thirty on Friday morning, Bernice had the water and oatmeal boiling, bacon strips laid out in the skillet, and...
This three-part installment follows Donna as she and the surrounding community try to solve what has killed her calf. Donna...
Jeremy Haworth is an Irish poet and writer. In 2019, he started Charis Garden, renovating a tumbledown farmstead and walled...