This old house is not old at all; it only feels this way. The online pictures that grabbed my attention showed conjured-up images of bohemian residents who smoked pipes late at night, held poetry readings, and sang a lot by the Janus fireplace. I bought the illusion of the house rather than the house itself; I realize that now. Returning to Colombia after thirty years abroad wasn’t an easy decision. It was one my husband made for me, for us. […] The post This Old House by Adriana Páramo appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

My Mother Considers Her Callows Farm From a parlour window I see sunlight creeping across the fields, and how some nights streams spar with moonbeams – but now I’ve slopped the shallows enough for sense, wearied of the skylark rising with dawn or against the falling dark. This land never was certain of itself, nor kind to shoe leather, no woolpack and no feather bed. Neither did it pretend the deed of adding a scrap or screed of comfort to […] The post My Mother Considers Her Callows Farm by Patrick Deeley appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Our first summer storm arrived in the wee hours of a warm mid-January morning. As lightning flickered against the curtains and thunder rolled out across the western sky, I imagined the farmers of the riverina staring at their ceilings, fists balled, cursing God through gritted teeth, because rain would mean a three-day wait for their hay bales to dry out. I wondered if Jessie and Spence were awake. Jessie’s house stood on the hill next to the Methodist Church and […] The post Crazy Train by Simon Rowe appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Foraging Pluck purslane and plantain for salad, shred it small so it slides by skeptics, know you’re kneeling in Eden even if your rural township is loud with campaign signs, target shooting, giant crop spraying tractors. Focus on birdsong, nod at mallow flowers, breathe in milkweed’s perfume. It might be cottagecore if you wore a pinafore replete with harvesting pockets, if you carried a handwoven basket, if blackberry thorns didn’t snag your skin, if your fingernails weren’t lined with soil. […] The post Two Poems by Laura Grace Weldon appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

The post Rebounders by Don Stewart appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

The post Blood Brother by Jeremy Haworth appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Judge Dr. Chea Parton has selected “Blood Brother” by Jeremy Haworth as the Best Short Story for the 2024 Best in Rural Writing Contest. Listen to Jeremy read his submission below. The audience helps choose the winner between the Best Short Story and Best Essay for the overall winner of the Best in Rural Writing Contest and the $500 prize. You can listen to and read Dr. Parton’s choice for Best Essay, “Rebounders” by Don Stewart, here. You can vote […] The post CONTEST: Blood Brother by Jeremy Haworth appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Judge Dr. Chea Parton has selected “Rebounders” by Don Stewart as the Best Short Story for the 2024 Best in Rural Writing Contest. Listen to Don read his submission below. The audience helps choose the winner between the Best Short Story and Best Essay for the overall winner of the Best in Rural Writing Contest and the $500 prize. You can listen to and read Dr. Parton’s choice for Best Short Story, “Blood Brother” by Jeremy Haworth, here. You can […] The post CONTEST: Rebounders by Don Stewart appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Robert Andrews had a fondness for April, when rain fell daily and water puddled ankle-deep in the low areas around his yard. His pastures sprouted new grass and pink primroses, lifting his heart from the mild depression brought on by winter’s chill and an aching hip. And with spring’s longer days, he especially enjoyed the hours spent in his barn’s churchlike structure, its shadowed stalls ripe with the smell of hay and dung. The place served as his refuge from […] The post Crossing the Pasture by Ruth Jones appeared first on The Milk House ..read more

Roads That Lead Nowhere It isn’t the stillness they talk about, the way the light spills over old barns, or the dirt road that winds like a vein, pulsing beneath the feet of those who never left. It’s the quiet rush of small rebellions, how we find freedom in cracked pavement, how the wind pulls at our collars like mothers calling us back before dark. The fields don’t whisper—they bellow in silence, an endless hum of being. We know the […] The post Roads That Lead Nowhere and Other Poems by Jeffery Alan Tobin appeared first on The Milk House ..read more