I come out of a beautiful dream. It’s embarrassing, the mocking expulsion like a kid’s belch you hear as he gives you the finger. Bright yellow bile add light and texture to the linoleum grey floor, for a second, could be a splash of paint unlike the cool honey melon I gave you in the dream, dirt still on it freshly picked from the vine.
In Canada, Tracy Robinson was born near one of The Great Lakes. She is an island girl between a river and a mountain, and lives her summers by the sea. Her poems and fiction appear in Creations, Horizons, Archipelago and L’Embarcadère.