Issue 164, Winter 2002-2003
This was the scar the old nurse recognized . . .
You are Odysseus! —translation R. Fitzgerald
Trying to prove the purity of gold,
Archimedes learned how in the bath;
his knees and shanks and soapy water told
him more than months of beakers, books, and math—
gurgles up on you, surfacing where
you're wringing out a sponge, your search suspended
for the nonce. Did anyone prepare
old Eurykleia? No; the basin rang
a high bronze peal, curvetting to the floor
amazed, and up the startled water sprang.