Sanguine 

By Andrew Ballard

Sanguine 

is where I find myself

sitting in my red armchair

transported to my ideal place

seashore views

rolling sandhills

crystal clear sea 

with cappuccino froth 

swirling in the waves

driftwood gnarled 

with stories caught in kelp

seagulls squawking

crabs crawling

with sun setting 

penguins 

are coming home from the sea

soon the incoming tide 

will lap at the foot of my red chair

I couldn’t care

sanguine 

is where I find myself.

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