Topics | Agriculture | The Sun Magazine

Topics

Browse Topics

Agriculture

Poetry

Noah’s Wife

Noah, his swelled head, his ego larger than the ark, his crazy / self-promoting savior mania. Because of him we dropped / everything, sank our fortune in cypress wood, and every / filthy creature we couldn’t trap we had to buy with our last coin.

By Wendy Drexler February 2024
Poetry

Mountain Flowers

When I was sixteen, / pickup truck, load of hay, / there was nothing I’d rather see / from the window than women’s underwear / hanging on a backyard clothesline.

By Robert P. Cooke February 2024
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

His Body Of Work

I loved my father’s body. It worried me, too. . . . I didn’t know what polio was, but it sounded scary, and he had survived it. This helped form my view of him as someone who could survive almost anything. Like Wile E. Coyote, he might get hurt and maimed, but he never, ever gave up.

By Doug Crandell November 2023
Poetry

Elegy With Adding Machine And Milk

One cold November day / after the lambs were sold / and the wheat brought in, / my grandfather settled / himself at his desk / and punched the numbers / into an electromechanical / adding machine, the gears / whirring and cachunking, / a long white ribbon pooling / on the dusty linoleum

By Joe Wilkins October 2023
The Sun Interview

Burning Questions

Meg Krawchuk On Our Changing Relationship With Fire

A fire manager making a decision may look like they’re in a position of power, but often they really have only one choice: to suppress the fire. If they don’t, they are opening themselves up to a Russian roulette of consequences depending on how the wind blows, quite literally.

By David Mahaffey October 2023
Poetry

I Eat My Words

Yes, it’s cruel. An unseemly gluttony. / Trapping the ortolan buntings, forcing / them to gorge in the dark, mouthfeel of seeds / their only comfort in that closed, blank space.

By Leona Sevick September 2023
Readers Write

Coffee

A family business, a workplace lifeline, a reminder of home

By Our Readers June 2023
The Dog-Eared Page

Some Thoughts On Mercy

When we have mercy, deep and abiding change might happen.

By Ross Gay May 2023
Poetry

At The Market

It’s Sunday at noon, and the open-air / vendors are planted in their usual spots — picklers / pressed against the outer edge while growers / forest the pathways with kale, collard greens, / and patches of lavender.

By Lori Romero January 2023
Poetry

I Feel Sorry For Aliens

Lonely nights I walk to the old / elevator that used to hold Montana / grain: beams rusted, train tracks / ripped out, a patchwork of missing / roof panels framing perfect squares / of starlight

By Anders Carlson-Wee December 2022