Notes from the Clearing

Joey Thomas

The majestic tree, rooted in the beautiful meadow, stands proud below the volley of birds that come and go, flitting, flying, and gluiding. All under the canvas of sky where clouds roil and turn, stretch and fade, while the lowly fungus bloom to gather in circles and bloom along, in the footsteps of man. Which means more, or might they all hold equivalence in the epic scheme of it all? Is the breath of a blade of grass really less important than the snorted retort of a giant Sperm Whale? Mosquito? And, who thinks they get to decided? N