Photo of Joanna Klink

Joanna Klink

Joanna Klink is the author of five books of poetry, most recently The Nightfields. She teaches at the Michener Center for Writers in Austin, Texas.

May/June 2015

Dream of Hands

By Joanna Klink

Skies over fields, hatch-marks of rain. Rich smoke lifting from Plain hay-like things. When night fell again the eerie flute-call Of the elk felt like an arc of coins across […]

May/June 2015

Processional

By Joanna Klink

If there is a world, let me be in it. Let fires arise and pass. The sky fill with evening air then sink across the woodlots and porches, the streams […]

May/June 2015

Noctilucent

By Joanna Klink

Not only the roads. Not only the streamwater, raw against my face and hands. Not the painstaking ground faith that has kept me  here, the nerves and reeds rooting down […]

Fall 2014

Stillways

By Joanna Klink

Except in darkness a fog has brushed against grass Except a rain moving through branches at night    has lifted away: from the window    you watch but don’t see Except in […]

Fall 2014

Night on Land

By Joanna Klink

It must have seemed a long time to you, evenings and nights, breath by    breath, year by year, wind    on the bridge sweeping    away the soak of dusk so that […]

Winter 2012

The Graves

By Joanna Klink

Sometimes on the steps you forget you are lasting in sunlight. You forget kinship, as when, through dusk, deer keep the color of the field. You forget rest, and a […]

Winter 2012

Night Blindness

By Joanna Klink

Where will you be when I return to the town that once forced me out. I was well-lost in the eastern cities, running for trains and burning down, in my […]

Winter 2012

The Graves

By Joanna Klink

How many days? Days we arrive at evening not knowing their meaning. For a moment your hand catching the bone of my hip filled our aloneness, but the orders inside […]