Being an islander means that you aren’t like everyone else.” Bounded by water, you can live your life with certainty knowing where your edges are. Drawn from interviews with artists from Newfoundland and Tasmania, these poems capture what it means to be an islander. To know every rock and tickle, “the sea your road/the hole in the sky/your light to travel by.” In My island’s the house I sleep in at night, Brinklow — jointly published by Walleah Press, and Island Studies Press, Prince Edward Island, Canada — weaves stories and images with her own poetic imaginings. These are poems steeped in community memory, about belonging to a place like nowhere else, a kitchen party full of islanders telling stories about the patch of rock they call home.