Hitching a Ride

A tiny caterpillar clung

To the mirror on our car,

Perhaps to hitch a ride, not knowing

We were going far.

 

I didn’t notice he was there

‘Til we were on the road

And wondered if he’d make it

All the way to our abode.

 

I thought he’d hate the city,

Though, of course, there is some grass.

My worrying was wasted

For it never came to pass.

 

A half an hour later,

All the wind became too much.

Despite a valiant effort,

All his little feet lost touch.

 

I watched him blow away

Into a highway of cement,

His final day on earth, at least

That much was evident.