after The Lady of Shalott (1875) by John Atkinson Grimshaw
after Millais’Ophelia (1851-52) by Sir John Everett
when I think of her
seeing the miniature
longboat drifting down
river pulsing underneath
a fierce prow for protection
her dress just a shroud
her eyes now closed by others
or spread on her back
her bluest eyes still open
wildflowers clutched in her hand
always this story
not for love but self-love’s lack
their rudderless selves
who can remedy
it, only more of the same
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