Saturday Poetry

This weeks Saturday Poetry, matched with mobile photography/art is entitled ‘A Cloud of Drench Bearing Down’ by Emily Pittinos. She is a poet, author, and winner of the 2020 Iowa Poetry Prize.

The recipient of a 2022 literature fellowship from the Idaho Commission on the Arts, she is a visiting lecturer in creative writing at Boise State University in Boise, where she lives.

I have matched mobile art by @debergenseboekenkast entitled ‘We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. Ernest Hemingway A moveable feast’.

To view her Instagram account please go here.

If you would like to be featured in our Saturday Poetry section, please ensure you include the hashtag #theappwhisperer to any images posted to Instagram. This will mean we will be able to consider it.

To view the others we have published in this section, go here.

by Emily Pittinos

An odor in the breeze—spruce; palosanto; silver dust 
of a hard freeze. This isn’t love-love, I say back. But 
what do I know—except 
                                              I’ve gotten close enough to too far 
enough times to know 
                                         it is possible to pull back, and for that thrill 
to be enough. But what damage that moment does, the having of it 
—the halving of it—again and again in the mind, 
I cannot say. How leaves, 
                                              no matter how long they soak in the river, 
will never turn truly black—though how could I be sure of this, either, 
without staying the weeks to watch. 
As the day drains 
                                  out the window, I become more and more 
the focus of my own gaze. Light leaches from every 
silvered feather; every bone-bright twig 
now grey as silt—the great equity 
                                                                of darkness coming down. 
How you can find that what you believed was singular, and needed 
to be, is not— 
                            This, too, a trick of light or distance— 
the burst cattail no cattail at all, but a stalk 
of lush grass weighted with snow. 
This, too—how could you


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