A little girl foots her scooter across the Platte River bridge. “Don’t get too far ahead,” her mother calls, as the scooter swings toward the edge of the sidewalk. The girl’s driving leg beats a steady rhythm as trucks rumble by, the river flows below, bottle-brown over white shreds of trash. There are no fish.
Two plywood staircases rise on Wynkoop: All that remains of the DNC
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If you’re looking for things to do this week, check out this calendar or this one.
Exhibit Darfur sounds particularly cool.
Here’s a list of free events.
You had me fooled! This article has nothing to do with chocolate.
I wanted to write about the things I saw while walking from Wen Chocolates at 15th and Platte to Belvedere at 229 Colfax. But the title was the easiest way to work it in. Another poet might say I’m imposing something on the poem.