I have always thought it would be fun to have a flamingo in my yard, or maybe a whole flock of them. Under I-70 in Glenwood Canyon, beneath a section of the east-bound side there is a flock that appears every spring. I always look for them when driving back to Boulder, but it's not exactly a spot to just stop and take a picture. Over the weekend at the Carbondale Mountain Fair some folks were running around the fair, randomly planting these words in various places. So, I've changed my mind about the flamingos. Now I want yard poetry.
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