Another buddy bites the dust. Aging, it seems, is measured out in deaths.
But a life goes on in the memories it leaves behind.
I remember Eti the bon vivant, Eti the original Apia hippie, Eti the bongo player, but especially Eti the poet, Eti the Samoan Beat bard.
No one gave a better, more entertaining poetry reading.
He had no fear of sharing his emotions.
Going through his poems I have here, I found a short old favorite to share, quintessential Eti:
It was the eve
of the new moon
that my daughter
gave me a pebble
for my birthday.
It was gift wrapped
with tiny fingers,
sticky with mango juice.
Rest in peace, uso. Your memory is a happy one.
For Samoa News