Ann Keniston's poems have been published in Antioch Review, Kenyon Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Pequod, Shade, and many other journals; her essays have appeared in Gettysburg Review, Threepenny Review, and elsewhere. Twice a recipient of the Academy of American Poets Prize, she has been a resident at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, the Ragdale Foundation, and the Ucross Foundation and has received artist's grants from the Somerville (MA) Arts Council and the Sierra Arts Foundation. She is also a scholar of contemporary American poetry, with articles published in Contemporary Literature and several anthologies. She teaches English and creative writing at the University of Nevada-Reno.

About The Caution of Human Gestures:

"Frost speaks of the process of writing poems as starting with an emotion, the emotion finding a thought, and the thought finding a word. At every part of this process, Ann Keniston's quiet, passionate, wonderfully intelligent voice finds a way to give emotion, thought, and word a quiet gravity and grace that is unique in American poetry. Keniston is one of the very few poets, like Emily Dickinson, who have the gift for dramatizing the mind in motion, as opposed to the mind at rest-these poems are superb exemplars of the mind in motion, in which transparency of word matches exactly the density of thought and integrity of emotion."
—Tom Sleigh

"The complex intelligence of these poems lies in their determination to balance the tumult of pain, physical and emotional, against the deepest human pleasure, love, and the profound human challenge to '…lay down/everything except the effort to love.' The triumphs of The Caution of Human Gestures are hard won, after 'All these years inside the compulsion/to hurt, be hurt or have been hurt…' Ann Keniston has found a voice at once piercing and unflinchingly objective."
—Gail Mazur

"The Caution of Human Gestures, Ann Keniston charts the world of spirit to find how it resides, as it always must, in the world of things. While Keniston acknowledges the trickster spirit duping us at every turn-'so the joke is funny because it's wrong: the body isn't what persists'-she also finds the courage to praise the fleeting nature of the temporal. In her debut collection, Keniston joins those contemporaries who place their faith in the act of description itself. Readers will find The Caution of Human Gestures a welcome journey."
—Claudia Keelan