One August Saturday, are we ever never seen,
An Artist moves the clouds, silver to a sheen,
A perfect moment rounds into a sliding veil,
Holding on, the rain softens a hardened hail;
O goddess, in the mist of us, remember full—
{Weave your spell as simple layers to us pull}
Glow the dash away--break my early in a day,
Full stop, change, bloom the red in us to stay.