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My Father’s Heart
What shouldn’t have shocked: my father’s heart. Its demise.
Unlike the poet Shelley’s heart, it wasn’t fire-
proof and fickle. It was of a higher
sort, my father’s heart, flammable but wise
as a male barn owl, known to memorize
his lover’s cheek, her heart-shaped face, desire
a steadfast oak all his short life beside her.
More than half my life I’ve tried to eulogize
my father’s heart. That poem, my mentor
Bill Matthews would say, longs to be a rose
but for now is the catalog you leaf through,
dreaming of seeds. Dying, my father swore
he’d rather die than not live as he chose.
Now, mutter how it will be different for you.
~~~~
No One Lives Forever
for Don Mason
Now, mutter how it will be different for you.
When he was dying my little brother
said cancer was “the sins of our mother”
visited upon him. What’s also true:
her heart was the stone rolled away from the tomb.
When she died his boy-heart was said to sever
like the curtain in the Temple, Easter
a promise that may or may not come true.
When he was dying—he was fifty-three—
Don understood only the dying want
to talk about death. Which is true. Rumor:
he was told he was born with a gallant
heart, one greeted with fortissimo glee.
I’ve been told I was born with a murmur.
~~~
Copyright 2025 Meg Kearney
Meg Kearney’s All Morning the Crows won the 2020 Washington Prize for poetry. She is also a prolific writer of books for young adults and children.

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Gorgeous work, dear Meg. Typically, I might add.
I don’t believe in coincidence either. I think coincidences are God’s way of keeping herself anonymous.
It’s the anniversary of my own little brother’s death at 35.
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I can’t say more than has already been said about these beautiful poems. Such heart and beauty in them. Marvelous work.
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Such gorgeous work! I am grateful to read a poet who includes the personal with extraordinary lyricism and honesty.
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Yes!
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This crown of sonnets does all the things we are not supposed to do nowadays: update a challenging traditional fixed form, use “heart” as a metaphor, employ Christian symbols, allude to contemporary as well as Romantic poets… and somehow Meg manages to pull it off. Brava!
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These sonnets are beautiful; I love the interweaving of poets of tradition with the personal, all resulting in a sort of lyric, Romantic poetry…
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And I have to share this with you: I had no idea what day Michael would publish these particular sonnets. Today happens to be the anniversary of my first (birth) mother’s death, the woman referenced in “No One Lives Forever.” A sign of some sort? Yes, I think so. Thanks again for your kindness, everyone.
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A happy accident of timing, Meg
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Ah, Michael–I don’t believe in coincidence…! Thank you so much for all of your support of me and countless other writers.
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Thanks, Meg. Poetry is my passion. Politics is my obsession.
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Thanks to Michael and to ALL of you for your comments–you keep me going! And YES, these sonnets will appear in my new heroic crown, CARDIAC THRILL, coming out this September with Green Linden Press. Gratitude…
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Wow. I echo Barbara. Wonderful morning fare; an echoing reminder that hearts really do sing. Pity about all those willfully stopped ears.
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How grateful I am to see Meg’s sonnets on Vox Populi. And, yes, what heart in her poems — in all her poems — that I have been reading for over 30 years, for we have shared a beautiful friendship for that long… I love the cadences, the music, the enjambing rhymes & lyricism in Meg’s sonnets: they are indeed her “little songs” (from the Italian “sonnetto”) but how beautifully they sing when she weaves them together as a chorus in her Crowns or Heroic Crowns!
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Exactly so, Laure-Anne.
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Thank you, Laure-Anne, dear friend and inspiration!
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Floating on the beauty and music of words. I needed this to get up this morning. Thank you.
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Enjoyed the rhythm.
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.What a great crown of sonnets and I am eager to hear more. They sing and oh how we we need the song. Thank you, Meg and Michael
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Thank you, Hayden!
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The heart knows stuff the mind can’t understand. What beautiful, inspiring poems.
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Thanks, Marc!
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As davidades comments so thoughtfully, the heart still beats strong as a poetic life force. These two poems, (and her previous ones linked to on this site) inspire. And inspiration is needed as much as ever to power our voices, so as to keep hope alive. I’m gonna take a deep breath of gratitude, and thank her hearts, and ours. We, the hearted ones, broken or mended, still concocting rhymes or rhythms.
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What beautiful, ongoing reflections – thank you Meg Kearney, and Michael for posting.
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Thank you, Noelle!
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You would think that poems about the heart have been done to death! But how can poets not write about heart? We are drawn to heart as life’s mighty engine, as symbol, as living pulse. The sonnet form of these poems captures the beating regularity of the heart. And the heart’s generosity. And the heart’s sorrow. So much is held in the heart and these poems succinctly reflect that, are beautiful vessels. Thank you!
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Well-said, David!
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