on the way home from home i saw
a cat
trapped
on the island between the two stretches of road
trapped
frantically looking at the cars charging by
trapped
wondering what was less dangerous to do

stay and wait and starve and die
go and swerve and crash and die
stay and die
go and die
death waits for him more patient than a saint

fur whipped by the wind
eyes wide and black as the approaching night
fear pressing in through the window as i passed

i could have helped him
i could have saved him
i could have loved him
inaction killed him