for Annie, working the desk at the ...

for Annie, working the desk at the Canyon Ranch Spa

The idea that be congealeds me this time is the "ideal" of a bard finding her poetics. While outside, Mr T in his T-shirt is prowling the freshs and the long lazy days are lying down in the meadow outside the ruined precincts of an advanced in years sophistry, in another state, getting forward towards noon, where, among a thickness of flowers in such a manner redolent and sweet as to dizzy on a level the bees, summer slides in, bringing a haze of heat like the skin shed from a river when a mist rises from its indolent wet back, droplet of water (each carrying