the rainy season

I am no longer the ring master of my own 3 ring circus. We have at the most 1 and a half. I am not who I was because no one else is. Time swept away the elderly and the toddler. And the eldest appears to be on sabbatical from medical crises. The other offspring are near and far all at once. I watch the 5 leafed akebia take over the garden. It grows so fast. It never grew like that on the pergola in the woods. I thought it was a sedate plant so I took a few rootlings from the woods and put them in the garden. On purpose. It twists and twines and spirals up anything and everything and then itself when all else fails. It is doing battle with the rose-that-took-over-the-world (new dawn planted on a septic field). I quiver in the evening, holding on to my tiny pruners and simply whisper 5 leafed akebia over again. Hoping something will be clear to me now. My mother didn't know this plant - at least not personally. I introduced it to myself. It doesn't whisper back her name. It doesn't mourn this second spring without her.  I wanted to say first. It all feels like the first because the actual firsts were simply rehearsals for life without her.