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.