still has a few cows and goats he helped into this world, then fed with a bottle. They follow him everywhere, eyes rolled up in adoration.
It pours from a muslin sack like sunlight
through a cracked window shade, fifty pounds
to a metal washtub, old as your footsteps.
Not knowing the spring of 1980
would be the worst drought
in the history of Texas,
my father sod an entire acre.
It was my job to water.
Respecting the humanity and history of soil can help us grow a more resilient future for all.
The whole world
has pictures, explosions
we hold in our palms
I’m the wretch the song’s about
Water then food. Agriculture then industry. Old then new. Critical then extra. Simple to complex. Concrete to abstract. Dirt to clouds. Real to unreal.
Rosata, her husband, Prosper, and son, Japhety, work year-round on their small farm to harvest fresh fruits and vegetables for the Portland community.
Our research shows that there is potential for giving large areas of land back to wildlife. Restoring native ecosystems not only helps the climate; when coupled with reduced livestock populations, restoration reduced disease transmission from wildlife to pigs, chickens and cows, and ultimately to humans.
I hear my grandmother’s voice, a divination,
Thick rolls the mist, that smokes and falls in dew.
Could this be the beginning of a new food economy?
While the U.S. government has prioritized the bailout of Wall Street with public monies, it has marginalized distressed rural communities and failed to provide the necessary funds, expertise and assistance to help revitalize them.
Enslavement and sharecropping cannot erase thousands of years of Black people’s sacred relationship with the land.
You in the Mercedes with a phone clamped to your ear honking at the farmer who’s had the temerity to drive a tractor, slowly, in a no-passing zone, in front … Continue reading →