There were four of us everywhere I go…

There, in the corner of Sanur Beach where you took us
playing between salty waves and grainy sands
while you watched with glee,
fishing and chatting away

There, in the restaurant with the giant bratwurst
where you used to fight for your right to eat pork
and enjoy a bulky glass of beer

There, near that book rack in the bookshop
where you gladly paid for any books I desired
almost never complain

There, resting on that Estee Lauder counter

pampering Mami with foundation with extra whitening protection
while your children standing, restless

There, along Hayam Wuruk Street

where you drove your children every single morning

to school, despite the yawning

There, between vegetables and food-to-go counter
where we tease you endlessly on your weakness
of gassy grilled cassava and your shameless hobby
of trying free samples
“We’re going to buy it anyway, “was your defenses

There, in that hotel three hours drive away,
a long journey with Harry Belafonte singing
where we just sleep, eat, swim and read
being free from responsibility
summer break in this never-ending hot season

This Island in the Sun belongs to the four of us,
planted with trunks of memory
rained with fatherly love
fertilized with rich soiled care
who left us to soon
too fast
and would be missed
infinitely