By Jane Seskin
I bought a kazoo. Metallic green.
I ordered it the evening
of Memorial Day when I saw
and heard numerous trumpeters
play Taps, in small neighborhoods
and at famous sites like Arlington
My heart melted hearing those
familiar 24 notes from childhood
parades and I was brought
Had a mellow memory from young
summer days in the park, playing
the kazoo which only required
breath while humming. No talent
needed. And now, on some evenings
when I am tired and needing
to self-soothe, I pick up the green
metallic kazoo from my desk …
and I hum.
Jane Seskin, LCSW, is a psychotherapist and author.
What a lovely poem/memory.