But if god resembles
anything, let it be
anything, let it be
the larkspurs growing
by the highway’s crest—
by the highway’s crest—
violet flares stashed
against morning air,
against morning air,
- FICTION
- POETRY
- NONFICTION
- LIBRARY
-
LEARN
- Narrative for Schools
- High School Writing Contest
- Writing Prompts
- Video Tutorials
- Writers & Mentors Videos
- Advice for Writers
- Writers’ Resources
- This Could Be Me
- Recommended Reading
- Theme-Based Reading Guide
- Explore Our Library by Theme
- A Note to Teachers
- A Note to Students
- About Narrative for Schools
- BACKSTAGE
- STORE
- SUBMIT
- ABOUT
- DONATE
- SIGN IN
