How Memories Survive & Other Poems
BY LACI HOYT
Photo Courtesy | Laci Hoyt
How Memories Survive
For Cleo
On my walk today, I passed black walnuts on the street
broken open, partially crushed, their little pig noses
face up to the sky.
And later on, a tractor in a field came into view, the red paint
oxidized into a flaky red-brown crust, and I smelled wheat
from my memory.
The tears came unbidden then, and I cried.
I cried because she never met my family
but she would have loved them.
I cried because she was gone before I told her
how much I loved her and how much her loving me
made all the difference.
I cried and then I laughed because she still lives in the black walnuts,
the rusty tractors, and in my memory, in my senses, in my cells.
Even my cats smell like the farm.
Portrait of a Young Man’s Mother
She stands resolute, solid
and soft, decisive,
and giving.
She stands unseen.
She is the life maker,
the maker of all
that is taken.
She is never more tired
than she is
right now.
She is full of laughter
love
worry
and overblown reactions.
She is the future seer.
She is the one
whose arms
ever open.
She will take
what you give.
She will collect it all,
hug it tight
and transmute it
into light
if you let her
but you must let her
be
just a little more seen.
The Most Natural Thing
They call it rare,
your cat-shaped eye.
They call it a normal variant,
the way your toes web.
They said,
maybe tongue-tied.
They said,
maybe visually impaired.
They said maybe,
maybe, maybe
But you were always
my baby
perfection in my arms.
I wanted you to look in the mirror and see
the miracle of yourself
But I notice that you shy away from your reflection
in the mirror,
The way you reflexively squint
to make your difference less noticeable.
And I wonder,
will you ever grow to love it?
Because to me
it’s the most natural thing in the world.
LACI HOYT is a sensitive, creative person who is driven by a desire to make the world a little softer through her writing and creative projects. She writes from her home near Ithaca, NY where she lives with her family. She writes both essays and poetry about living with chronic illness, love, relationships, and all the other things she can’t stop thinking about. Her essays and poetry have been published in The Kindred Voice and Motherscope. When she’s not writing, she can be found making various projects with fabric or yarn. You can find her on Instagram @liviatree.