Groundswell

It was a trip,

a sudden lurch

on the morning street.

My shoe caught,

skidded, almost threw me

into the patchy grass.

Just a root,

thick as my arm,

bursting through the sidewalk.

A dark vein of earth

under the concrete skin.

Pushing up,

patient and slow,

a silent, subterranean muscle

forcing its way

into the light,

disrupting everything.