Heirlooms

RUNNER UP FOR THE 2021 PINK POETRY PRIZE

Each line in “Heirlooms” is surprising in imagery and intent, worthy of being saved for posterity in a secret place the way we keep things that are most vital to us safe. At the same time, the poem is full of the kind of difficult history that announces who we are, on the page and in the world. And through that history and the litany of its manifestations that this stunning poem becomes a beautifully imaginative enactment of its title.
— Adrian Matejka, 2021 Pink Poetry Prize Judge

My forebearers kept secrets like some people keep

money in the mattress, safe until 

the house catches fire, until 

the hillsides are burning, until the canopy

has turned to ash that falls, 

covers the ground, crushes underfoot, 

no, not like snow, like ash, 

like death. Call it what it is. 

When I was born, I was swaddled in 

a blanket of secrets. Secrets swirled 

into my formula I couldn’t keep down. 

Secrets swam like tadpoles in my muddy river veins,

secrets braided like colorful ribbons into my hair. I

brought those secrets to homeroom class. Heaped

onto my plate at dinner 

secrets with mashed potatoes on the side, when

the family would gather around the table,

looking ready to fight but simply saying, Pass

the gravy, please. The one with the secret

ingredient, that tastes lightly of 

war and burying a child. 

The secrets I must believe in 

without even knowing what they are 

except that they are also mine, that 

the eldest child receives as many 

secrets in the will as the youngest. 

Heirlooms that ask nothing of me 

except to keep them forever, jot them 

in the margins of my entire life, 

to accept them, finally, like faith, 

a mantle I throw around my shoulders.


Arielle Hebert_photo by Alex Proenza.jpg

About the author

Arielle Hebert is a queer poet based in Durham, North Carolina. She holds an M.F.A in poetry from North Carolina State University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Nimrod Journal, Willow Springs, Grist, and Redivider, among others. She won the 2020 Claire Keyes Poetry Prize judged by Erika Meitner and the 2019 North Carolina State University Poetry Contest judged by Ada Limón. Arielle believes in ghosts and magic. www.ariellehebert.com