Tim Carmichael

Joined March 2025

329 stories

Bio

I am an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. I write about rural life, family, and the places I grew up around. My poetry and essays have appeared in Beautiful and Brutal Things, My latest book. Check it out on Amazon

https://a.co/d/537XqhW

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Stories (329)

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Appalachian Healing
Mama always said she'd teach me to make her blackberry cobbler this summer. Well, she died in May, so that plan got shot to hell real quick.
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Fiction
In Late Light
The wind moves slowly through the reeds, Brushing the water with sighs. A heron lifts from the water, with only the sound of wings.
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
Appalachia
And the mountains rose like the prayer of old souls, carved not by hands but by the sighs of God. In the hush between the pine and fog
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
The Book of Buried Truths
I’ve seen the ledgers, line by line the zeros bloom like winter wheat while hands that plant and hands that build
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
The Room I Never Let You In
I tell you I’m tired, but not why. Not that the ache is older than this year a story in my spine since before I had words
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
What I Held Inside Me When the World Believed I Was Whole
I have walked with my hands behind my back and none have seen what I carried within them the ache for closeness I could not title
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
Phillis Wheatley: America’s First Black Literary Voice
In the summer of 1773, a slim volume of poetry appeared in London under the title Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. The author was Phillis Wheatley, a young Black woman from Boston who had never known freedom. Her name alone stirred curiosity. Her words left an impression that has endured for centuries.
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Journal
Appalachian Sunset, Breath Held, A Poem by Tim Carmichael
The sun sinks over the holler burnt orange bleeds slow and steady into the purple part of dark I sit on worn steps, boots covered in dirt
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
July Morning (A Mikeydred July Dollar Prompt)
In the hush of a July morning when the sky blushes soft and wide the world exhales in golden silence as dreams and daylight coincide
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
The Vanishing: A Manual
Begin where life turns its back and silence does not flinch. Speak your name once to the universe then lower it into sleep.
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
Between Here and There
The coffee shop behind me already feels like yesterday, your laugh still ringing in my head while I step over puddles. I wanted to tell you about
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets
How Many Can Relate to This? What We Actually Do
I spend three hours watching videos of people I'll never meet then wonder why I feel so empty. My apartment is a disaster but my Instagram
By Tim Carmichael8 months ago in Poets