Tumbled down an incline at Bash Bish
Broke many things; it was still spring

Clouded over, it was too rainy to walk annually
At Bartholomew’s Cobble; a coneflower appeared

As did a lupin, even some alyssum
Be forewarned: the eternal perennial

Is not immortal, though rooted in the ground
& coming back, it might disappear

In a wild fire, tornado or apocalypse
Or move over in a spring flood

Or earthquake; you move over & you’ll see
The same thing you saw yesterday, maybe

It’s the welcome wagon, here’s
A cherry pie; the cherries are eternal