Beyond Memory

Childhood was fleeting
compared to the decades
and phases of adulthood,
still ongoing.
So long ago now,
I can barely remember
its particulars,
only its essence,
only brief images
that emerge often.

I lived through
those early years
with very little explanation
and by the time I got
to an age of reason,
the many assumptions
I’d made about myself
in the world
were so deeply engrained,
I couldn’t think
of what questions to ask.

Those assumptions
informed every choice
I ever made
even though their source
was long forgotten,
their accuracy
questionable.

It is as if that child
still lives in me,
beyond memory,
beneath consciousness.

Only a small girl
peeking around every corner,
whispering,
watching,
waiting for something.
I just don’t know
what that might be.

By Maria Brady-Smith