For Glenn Todd by Charles Plymell

We’ve seen the trace of tears on dusty Texas cheeks
      and cliffs of far away Pacific spray
            eat away timeless Redwood scented root.
We’ve caught the salty tang of brine
       diffusing on our tongues for all eternity.
Innocent, foolish fun loving seekers
     mixed our presence in the hot baths
   cleansed the poison from our spores
         before the new age occupied Big Sur.
Thanks, Charley. It is indeed a beautiful poem and it touches me that you recollect that weekend. Of course I too remember the Big Sur hot springs. How we stood that night on the wall above the bath, overlooking the dark Pacific without our clothes — you, Maureen, and me, our bodies outlined against a starry sky. A voice (Alan Watts) from the recess of the bath telling us how beautiful we were — like Grecian statuary, he said.

3 Responses to “For Glenn Todd by Charles Plymell”

  1. great poem for a great guy.

  2. Great poem, sweet and freshens my memories of times with feet in the creek.

  3. Patti Diludovico Says:

    I can envision and appreciate the poem captured so vividly
    Great poem and two great guys

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