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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