STARS, SCATTERSTILL. Constellations of people and quiet.
Those nights when nothing catches, nothing also is artless.
I walked for hours in those forests, my legs a canvas of scratches,
trading on the old hopes—we were meant to be lost. But being lost
Joanna Klink is the author of the poetry collections Raptus (Penguin Books, 2010), Circadian (Penguin Books, 2007), and They Are Sleeping (University of Georgia Press, 2000).