Minstrel

all i know
scatters like cinders
of a spent library-
as if my bones were scrolls,
my muscles pages
on a wilted spine.

i no longer embody feasts,
or parade down ripe boulevards.
no more signposts of fervor,
fences of drunken dawn.

countrysides of damsels
do not tease me,
nor do their hums
traverse my chest-
no catkins to be coaxed
from willows forlorn.

i am coastline now,
with winds that hobble
through drowsy mists.
they shroud each other
as i grow calm,
spreading out
beyond my borders.


Chris Crittenden has about three hundred poems published overall. Some recent acceptances are from: Ward 6 Review, Wild Violet, Offcourse and Istanbul Literary Review. The Rose & Thorn recently nominated him for Best of the Net.