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.