Guest Poem by Kathleen McPhilemy

Kathleen McPhilemy grew up in Belfast but now lives in Oxford. She has published four collections of poetry, the most recent being Back Country, Littoral Press, 2022. She also hosts a poetry podcast magazine, Poetry Worth Hearing https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/kathleen-mcphilemy. This poem is from Acumen 112.

Egret and Heron

Late afternoon, December, in the gloaming
across the bridge near the Willow Walk
a little egret: black beak, long black legs
startling yellow feet hidden in the grass.
I lift binoculars to see him more clearly
and there behind is a spectral follower
grey, more grey with white, bits of black
hints of yellow on the beak and legs.
I lower the glasses and he’s gone again
into reeds, drizzle, the coming night.

Grey heron, friend to mists and shadow,
doppelgänger, daemon, incubus
treading wetly in the other’s steps;
in my glasses he is there again
so that I wonder if he’s always there.
I learn he symbolises vigilance
perhaps he is the egret’s guardian angel.
What strength of glasses would I need
to see what lurks behind each one of us
what ghost, what angel, what foggy absence.