Dear Captain Kangaroo,

It’s all so quiet now
until I hear the news.
Then eulogies begin.
To think we never knew
how long you were in pain—
and no one wrote to you
to say that we are grown
and busy in our lives—
raising children too.

Your memory survives.

In the storage shed,
in corduroy once red,
by the ears he hangs—
his spectacles askew—
that bunny from the past
I once hung out to dry.

From the corner of my eye
I see him now and then,
remembering our days—
the carrot-colored sun—
our future all ablaze.

Now that day is done.

Maxine Cassin

Used with permission of the poet’s estate.