Tim Carmichael

Joined March 2025

239 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

Achievements (16)

Stories (239)

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The Door That Was Always Open
When a wave returns to its vast source, one might mourn it, or marvel that something so brief could carry so much of forever on its back.
By Tim Carmichael8 days ago in Poets
On Precision
What we owe each other is accuracy. Not kindness. Kindness is frequently a way of avoiding the difficulty of being correct.
By Tim Carmichael8 days ago in Poets
Morning Transit
Rain beads on mailbox a truck idles at the curb one envelope slips
By Tim Carmichael9 days ago in Poets
The Slug
a slug moves across the flat rock leaving a thin wet line behind it
By Tim Carmichael9 days ago in Poets
Still, We Come
My brother is a stranger to me until he is home again jaw first, then the way he stands against a wall deciding. 🌈 I have loved men
By Tim Carmichael10 days ago in Pride
The Drawing Room Tide
The tea service was laid out with the precision of a surgical tray. Mrs. Gable adjusted the silver tongs by a fraction of an inch, ensuring they were perfectly parallel to the edge of the mahogany table. Sunlight streamed through the bay window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and the thick, viscous pool of dark, brackish water that covered the entire floor of the drawing room to a depth of four inches.
By Tim Carmichael10 days ago in Fiction
River Crossing
Hoof in wet river a fly lifts, settles again grass bends in the wind
By Tim Carmichael10 days ago in Poets
The Moth
a moth on the wall opens both wings holds them there then folds them back shut
By Tim Carmichael11 days ago in Poets
Spring's Faithful Return. Top Story - March 2026.
Tell me, does the robin understand what she is singing about at dawn, that whole gorgeous insistence of song rising before the sun has fully committed
By Tim Carmichael11 days ago in Poets
The Digital Archive
I am holding a rectangular object made of glass and aluminum. It weighs exactly one hundred and seventy-four grams. * Inside this casing, there is a list of four hundred names.
By Tim Carmichael11 days ago in Poets
Ambient Noise
I am standing in a room filled with eighty people. The floor is concrete and the ceiling is high, which means the sound of every voice
By Tim Carmichael12 days ago in Poets
Colorectal Cancer Awareness
There is a channel that moves through the body, coursing, deeper than breath, and sometimes along its winding passage, a holler pools where the flow slows.
By Tim Carmichael12 days ago in Poets