I Am Half Sick of Shadows, Said the Lady of Shalott
She suffers, solitary and in silence.
The circular mirror beside her is her only joy.
In it, life moves fast, like the rushing water of the river.
Lovers walk along the bank, each struck by the beauty of the other.
Flags soar atop the stone castle walls, red-roofed
To catch the attention of knights riding past.
In her tower, she weaves on her loom.
Tapestries of bright colors she’d come to know in the
Reflections
of that mirror.
Golds and greens and blues and reds,
each hue is more vivid than the last.
The sweet smell of
the blue flowers on the bank
wafts through the open window and to her nose.
She hears the song of
the swallows dancing through the sky
and over the castle walls.
The harmonies of the songbirds peck at her ears,
And her eyes shift once more toward the mirror.
Her hands move from her loom and anchor behind her head,
and her cheeks flush with possibility, and her heart flutters with hope as
Resignation floods her eyes and new images for her tapestry fill her mind.
But in the distance, a horse trots.
Phoebe Robbins is a senior at Widener University, where she is pursuing degrees in English and Creative Writing. Her poetry will be featured in Mistake House, Green Blotter, and Inscape in their spring 2026 issues. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her friends, thrifting trinkets galore, and reading, often cuddled up with her beloved cat.
