The Daily Grind

The walking dead have returned and rise
in search of a source of life,
from which to feed; awake themselves
from the restless, restless night.

Clomping, stomping feet shuffle over floors
bumping into hallways and crashing into doors.
Then pausing for just a moment before
locating what they need, the answer, the source.

Clicking on the familiar button
life starts to brew,
it’ll only be a moment now
before the walking dead begin another day,
bright and full and new.

☕️ Happy National Coffee Day!!  ☕️

On Golden Pond: Play Poem Two- Ethel

Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.

Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.

Take this moment, share with me
the sweetness of the day
recognize our moments now
may sometime soon fade away.

The life we’ve spent together here
will then live in memories,
when shadows come to fill our home
on warm golden summer eves

The lake will hold the echoes
of each morning line you cast
in the ripples that will travel
on that surface of liquid glass.

The girls will sing their songs,
the trees will wave on the wind’s breathy goodbye.
Everything will seem the same,
but will be completely different,
without you by my side.

Written September 21, 2015

All the World’s a Stage: Poetry in Rehearsal

One of the many reasons I have been absent from my blog of late (new job, hiring and training new folks, moving, singing group, two weddings…) is that I’m in a play.  I’m in a production of the show ‘On Golden Pond’ with Stage Door Productions in Fredericksburg.  I play Chelsea (think Jane Fonda’s character).  She’s much older than me and very complex.  While waiting for a scene tonight I wrote this piece from Chelsea to her father:

Like similar poles on a magnet,
we fight.
So much alike
we won’t agree to see our similarities.
Insisting on distancing
ourselves
from one another.

Two stubborn ends resisting
insisting
on the win.
I once was eager to be on your side,
but now I can’t give in.

Listen
to the distance
that grows between us every time we meet,
the friction causing an infuriating heat
those golden summers could never hope to beat.

Beat. Beat.
Those few you have remaining, drive me to defeat.

I can bend, agree to see our similarities.
So much alike that I’m not sure we’ll ever meet.
Like the like ends of a magnet
we stay apart.

But I think I finally understand your heart.

If you’d like more information on the show please visit http://stagedoorproductions.org

They also have a link to their very awesome blog on their website!