Tales of the François Vase
by Julia Older
Radio Works radio dramatization
I first saw the François Vase in a newspaper. The Vase was in Florence, the paper said, at the Archeological Museum. I stared at the picture. . .
I had almost given up when, faintly, as if from a great distance, I thought I heard—breathing—a murmur of music—a voice. Thinking I’d been working too long, I put the poem aside and stood up to stretch. Then, she spoke. . .
Where was she? I arranged the photographs in a great circle on the floor and walked around them, staring at The Vase from every angle. She spoke again:
I see you circle round
then return
as if to spin the world you’ve found
in an urn.The voice and its music were inside the circle. I stepped in too and sat down on the floor. “Like you, I’ve been broken and mended,” I said to her. There was no answer. Perhaps she was offended! I consoled, “Still, how proud Ergotimos and Kleitias must have been.” Before I could finish, the music began again . . .
