We’re lying in the road letting the end of the sun soak into us and you say, “Is my ribcage showing?”I roll over and see the stretched flesh, the gentle pulse, the boneslike a door ajar and oh I’m starving. I answer yes andyou sit up to pull a jacket over them.“Sorry. I don’t knowContinue reading “The Ribcage by Britta Nilsson | Winner of 2024 Rural Teen Writing Contest”
Dr. Parton's Literacy In Place 