366 Partridge Street

Descending the steps of 366 Partridge,
dandelion spores filled the air like snow flakes,
but it was indeed spring. Down Myrtle, right onto Quail,
then to Providence.

Albany, a small town, young, old, swaying,
lean, mean, all nodded "good day." and Was
a good day - mrytle wavering, quail cooing,
Providence hovering. Time had come to close

a chapter. Shepherded him best I could.
Time to inhale myrtle, atune to quails,
thank Providence once more for bountious blessings.




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