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Column 189

On Swearing

Intro by Ted Kooser
11.12.2008

In cel­e­bra­tion of Veteran’s Day, here is a telling poem by Gary Dop, a Min­neso­ta poet. The vet­er­ans of World War II, now old, are dying by the thou­sands. Here’s one still with us, stand­ing at Nor­mandy, remembering.

On Swearing

In Normandy, at Point Du Hoc,
where some Rangers died,
Dad pointed to an old man
20 feet closer to the edge than us,
asking if I could see
the medal the man held
like a rosary.
As we approached the cliff
the man’s swearing, each bulleted
syllable, sifted back
toward us in the ocean wind.
I turned away,
but my shoulder was held still
by my father’s hand,
and I looked up at him
as he looked at the man.

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Disclaimer

We do not accept unsolicited submissions

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2007 by Gary Dop. Reprinted from “Whistling Shade,” Summer, 2007, by permission of Gary Dop. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.