Jacarandas Beneath Jordans

jacarandas beneath jordans

June 7, 2025

The first flower I let him hold was a jacaranda.  
It was just a few weeks back.  
We were walking in Carthay Square.  
I’ve been reluctant to let him touch flowers.  
His touch is more a pull and a tug,  
and then there is a flower that no longer pollinates.  

But there was a sea of jacarandas on the ground.  
Plenty had fallen.  
The timing was ripe.  
He looked.  
I gave.  

He held it carefully as we walked  
for nearly thirty minutes.  
And then,  
he let go.  

I caught it.  
He let go again.  
I caught it again.  

Fifteen times.  
No words.  
No rules.  
Just timing.  

A game we made together,  
out of a fallen bloom.  

Until finally,  
I missed.  

And he didn’t mind.  

This time we are in Century City,  
a new apartment to witness his growth.  
The petals are under us.  
I’m holding him again.  
My sneakers are in the frame,  
his weight just out of sight.  

And somehow,  
it still feels like catching.