Matter

For three weeks.

There.

On the road.

By the curb.

Where each day

thousands accelerate

onto the highway

She started out a cat.

Somebody's cat to miss

or 

maybe feral, 

missed by her own

She's a cat no more.

Matter.

My glimpse is just a blip on my trip

Each day there is less of her 

Each day there is less of fur 

One day there will be none.

No one stopped and scooped

"Not my job", we say

Pass by passively every day

Unnoticed 

unwanted 

uncaring

These words are all that's left

Of a life that didn't matter.