(Lesvos, Greece, 1942)
Artemis is small and nimble
apron loaded with courgettes
pockets crammed with parsley and dill
she takes the back alleyways
stops at the beachfront
a calm blue palette, a rock ledge
as she watches German soldiers dive
Ooh la la
yellow heads bob in the glistering water
Baba’s fishing boat nearby, idle for years
a memory of tasting sardines
Germans choose who will fish here now
feed the Wehrmacht
she hears footsteps, her heart races
Mama’s voice echoes:
don’t draw attention to yourself
move unnoticed child and hurry home
holding her laden apron tight
she nods as she passes Uncle Theodoros
barters figs and firewood at Aunt Rinoulas
picks up chickpeas
(they grind well with coffee beans)
thyme for mama’s cough
the clack tap of boots
she turns left to avoid the square
men gather at the mayor’s office
Manolis stands gesturing to Pavlos
she crosses abandoned fields
heads west of the village
few fishing families remain
Baba is waiting outside
mending nets, he sighs
at night the kerosene lamp flickers
Baba whispers don’t trust anyone paidi mou
Manolis could be a collaborator
Artemis shakes her head; a prodotis?
the splat of a motor vehicle
on bedding knitted together
with fishing net
light out
the three of them wait
