Disability Creeper

By Nicole Cervonaro

It seems innocuous at first

Brightly coloured flowers a delightful

distraction,

You crouch down to pick one, a vivid golden-

hued bloom,

But as you attempt to rise with your prize,

The vine twists around your foot, tripping you

where you stand,

you fall forward, headfirst into concrete, it 

takes your breath away, you cannot call out for aid.

Lying still, you realise your fist still grips tightly 

around the little yellow petals, now crushed but

somehow intact, the vine from which it came

comes clearer into view, and you see you have been 

deceived,

It was just a cruel weed.

By Nicole Cervonaro