March, 2015
Portland flowering trees
pink, fuchsia, white,
Nature’s delicate lace
translucent,
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.
Love.
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Oh, Carrie. The pictures and the poem are both beautiful. I love this one!
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So funny and lovely.
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That is beautiful, beautiful!!!
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Hello Carrie,
You’ve written precious memories here in delicate springtime pastels. 🌸
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She is so beautiful and so is the tribute to her. Hope all is well…enjoy!
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Delightful!
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Great work, Carrie! Just wait till Charlie Rae is old enough to read it!
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Wonderful! Congratulations to all.
David
>
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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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