Peripheral Sinatra Sighting

Watching a flock of birds fluttering to and fro,

following a new leader at every turn.

They don't seem to ever want to land.

Can you blame them?


Those subtle things barely witnessed...

Watching life go by from a speeding car,

played out like a flip-book

in between the trees.


These shades of grey go down so smooth,

filling in the scars left by the neon lights.


Flocks of birds, watching

speeding cars,

leaders turned witnesses,

their heads filled with neon lights.

A new outlet.

This is a place where I'm going put up some of my verse / freewriting, to share with anyone who happens to stumble by. Feel free to communicate, critique, question, or comment anything. I'm not expecting too much feedback, but any little bit helps. Thanks!