for Anne
We fly over girded earth
trailing the rise of Apollo light
thousands of feet high
The golden dish of sea blazes
through thin veils of cirrus
landmass emerges on planet’s curve
Our journeys edge zones of dark
with fear of globe’s turning silence
a choke of grief in chambered depths
Distances are relative
in waves of consciousness
what remains, what is lost?
The sky holds remnants
where dreams extend past reach
a spectre sphere of mother-moon
On the other side of night
my father, my bright-eyed king, awakes
walled in memories, in muscles of my blood
In reunion, we clasp each other
A lock of tears, always tears
Note: ‘The King’s Exile’ is a response to Anne Casey’s poetry that carries the theme of ‘exile’. The speaker of the poem is returning across the world to visit her ageing father. She is haunted by the death of her mother and of being far from her ‘roots’.