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.
Nature's Nature: A Gathering of Poetry
May/June 2015
Dream of Hands
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 […]
Nature's Nature: A Gathering of Poetry
May/June 2015
Processional
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 […]
Nature's Nature: A Gathering of Poetry
May/June 2015
Noctilucent
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 […]
Poetry
Fall 2014
Stillways
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 […]
Poetry
Fall 2014
Night on Land
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 […]
Poetry
Winter 2012
The Graves
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 […]
Poetry
Winter 2012
Night Blindness
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 […]
Poetry
Winter 2012
The Graves
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 […]
Poetry
Spring 2007
Thoughts on Fog
for the realist Fog-locked for three weeks we breathed the haze that hung on trees and hooped the mountain-town, a valley pooled with the stuff of nothing. A hand could […]
Introduction
Summer 2023
Joanna Klink Introduces Charlie Decker
Charlie Decker was raised in Oklahoma in an evangelical house. “And one of the running beliefs,” he writes, which is intended as a comfort, I think, was that God was […]
Poetry
Summer 2004
And Having Lost Track
And having lost track, I walked toward the open field. Now transparent, now far, the day-moon burned through the waste air. I passed the scientists, their gentle hands holding cinders […]
Book Reviews
Winter 2002
To Feel an Idea
Swarm by Jone Graham. New York: Harper Trade, 2001. 128 pp. $14.00. And out of what one sees and hears and out Of what one feels, who could have […]
Poetry
Summer 2023
Landfall
The Kenyon Review · Landfall Someone’s hung wind chimes on a low branch, the chord tossed slowly by wind. Once more the ghosthouse inside me, opening its doors. Once more […]
May/June 2020
From Night Sky
Read a micro-conversation with the author here. Millennia. Dry winds. War crosses through steel trees. Is it enough to hold on, under swinging darkness, as fires wheel across night. In […]
Poetry
July/Aug 2018
Almanac
Better to be awake at night in sympathy with clocks than to wander vaguely through days. Better to feel a hush in the yard. To cultivate a faith in strangers, […]
Poetry
July/Aug 2018
The Devotions
Have you been there all along, the softness of shadow in taverns, the barely-moving air around century-old trees. I had never needed to look. Now even a bird struggling to […]
Joanna Klink
Joanna Klink is the author of four books of poetry. A 2019 Guggenheim Fellow, she teaches in the MFA program at the University of Montana. Her new book, forthcoming from […]