Marisa Lewis was born and raised in Heraklion, Crete and currently lives in Montreal. She holds a BA from the University of Toronto and an MA from McMaster University. She is currently pursuing a doctoral degree in English Literature at the University of Ottawa, where she teaches as a lecturer. Her thesis examines the role of place in solidarity movements in Canadian literature. Her academic work appears in journals such as Studies in Canadian Literature and NaKan: A Journal of Cultural Studies. Some of her poetry features in her blog about Greek expat and diasporic writing, grexpatpoetry.com.
For the students of the Athens Polytechnic uprising, 1973.
For all who perished in the fight against fascism and dictatorship.
a tingling sensation in the chest:
from an aerial view the streets look like cicadas
old and young take the squares, making the serpentine city into
an artery of hope and broken glass.
we pray for them now with songs and
ancient funeral oils
that evaporate, before touching their faces only briefly,
in the jasmine-scented nights of Athens
now white and red grief is embroidered in the banners
the November breeze makes us sweat and—
suddenly there is just cold
in the country of sun and of white churches.
Poetry in this post: © Marisa Lewis
Published with the permission of Marisa Lewis