I told you that I
called out a name from sleep,
and it was yours. Funny how the mind
keeps flowing its direction,
niggling fronds, then under fronds:
it won’t leave me alone,
but continues to say
what might be feelings,
but I hear as truth.
Yes, my voice comes volunteer.
like love grass in poor soil.
Yes, it woke the one I slept beside.
Yes, she heard.
Dale Cottingham has published one volume of poems, is a Pushcart Nominee, a Best of Net Nominee, the winner of the 2019 New Millennium Award for Poem of the Year and was a finalist in the 2022 Great Midwest Poetry Contest.
