O Sole Mio

Renaissance Festival, sometime in the 1970s, on the southern outskirts of Minneapolis. There we bought what then was a bright casting made of sandy clay. It came from a vendor who came from New Mexico or Arizona. It had been hanging on some fence for many decades now at the two places where we’d lived ever since. Last fall the hanger affixed to its back gave way. The sun fell but landed softly. I brought it in to see if I could fix it. And now it’s Spring again. The time has come for this old sun, much battered by the winds and waters, to be cleaned up and, if possible to be hung again.