Overlooked

I sat in the parking lot,

twenty minutes waiting,

my phone dark,

and I looked down instead of ahead.

The asphalt was cracked.

In one of the cracks,

a weed.

Pale. Almost transparent.

Just pushing up

through a gap

designed to prevent exactly this.

A woman walked past.

Stepped over it.

Didn't look.

Didn't break her stride.

Just stepped

like the ground was flat,

like nothing was trying

to grow there.

The weed didn't move.

It couldn't.

It was just pale

and thin

and growing in a place

where nothing else

would bother.

My phone stayed dark.

The person I was waiting for

didn't come.

I watched the weed.

It watched nothing.

Just pushed up

through the only space

it had.

Still there when I left.

Still unseen.

Still growing anyway.