Charlie Rae’s Arrival

March, 2015

Portland flowering trees

pink, fuchsia, white,

Nature’s delicate lace


early that year.

Blossoms emerged

as we approached the city,

a floral celebration of

our family’s next addition.

Charlie Rae, though,

 had other ideas.

She did not arrive to see

the colorful decoration,

a fanfare of trees

tens of thousands

of petals, popped open

on her scheduled day.

But where was Charlie Rae?

Asleep and dreaming,

biding her time,

snuggled in her mother’s belly.

Her big day came and went.

She rolled and hiccupped

in her safe, dark space.

Petals brightened on the trees,

shouted color as loud as they could,

waved and danced in the northwest wind.

Charlie Rae, unimpressed,

rolled over,

took another nap.

Blossoms swirled and glistened

they pranced among the branches

like showgirls competing for attention.

Charlie Rae yawned and stretched and stayed.

No Charlie Rae.

The blossoms waited.

She kicked,

flipped around

to the other side.

Family and trees

began to fade.

Doctors shook their heads and joked:

Summer maybe?  Fall?

Tiny petals flew like snow

outside the hospital windows.

Wind picked up and stormed pink.

Light, fluffy flower hail.

Still, no Charlie Rae.

Her mother patient, weary, waited.

Worry-wrinkled foreheads

pressed against the hospital glass.

Petals falling, swirling, circling

at last, Charlie Rae woke up,

turned upside down,

pushed her way into this world.

Portland petals littered the

sidewalks and streets,

people swept and went about their spring.

We laughed with relief.

Charlie Rae, like the flowers

opened her eyes,

took a look around

and had a nap.

10 thoughts on “Charlie Rae’s Arrival”

  1. What a lovely poem, blooming flowers and reluctant babies. Charlie Rae knew better than all when the time was right for her. She is her own gorgeous blossom and you are a fine, fine poet.
    Thanks for sharing all of this with all of us.


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