“There is love that walks in fallows,” this Louisville poet writes. Ain’t that the truth.

How music and blackberries nourish and knit us together.

A farm and a family are one and the same, each one enduring a burden.

A lyric meditation on the ins and outs of jump rope, conversation, and other matters large and small.

His mother could afford only a single Christmas gift, and he treasured it. It kept him warm. At least for a little while.

The most weathered hands hold the most profound stories.

A South Carolina poet on how we leave a special place—but it never leaves us.

The poet laureate of Ohio—a ninth-generation Appalachian—on holiness, the murmur of autumn trees, and the anticipation of honeysuckle.

Six centuries of Appalachian history in four poems.

“Educate” has Latin roots, meaning “to draw out” from within or “to lead out” into something larger. The Alabama poet Dr. Jacqueline Allen Trimble calls out the powerful people who want our schools to do neither.

Five poets on the complex undercurrents of military service.

A Georgia professor of ecology offers a classic look at autumn—in the woods and in ourselves.