The old mud covered traffic cone
is standing there in its orange, triangular entirety
A little boy in his fifth year is walking with a kitty.
He trips down on the cone.

He calls for help as he sees his blood.
The mother comes rushing in.
He is hurt by the acidic grass and mud.
She too, falls down because of nearby the metal bin.

They both lay there,
in the grass, mud and trashcan dirt.
The mother called her husband first.
He came running in to help his wife and son.

The kid would cry (oh that imp),
complaining that the metal bin
and the traffic cone hurt his mother and his chin.
The mother dusted herself off and walked with a limp.