Slow
moving
red
tide
a
scooner
blue
and
gold
tiny
hands
pull
up
the
sails
and
the
wind
is
there
ready
to
greet
them
pushing
against
tarp
which
spreads
roundly
over
the
begining
of
the
gush
together
they
connect
with
taut
benevolence
the
sails
with
their
bright
bold
colors
covering
the
face
of
the
wind
but
the
sails
would
never
know
their
glory
with
out
the
colorless
wind
that
fills
them
and
moves
their
tiny
boat
over
the
silvery
sea