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