It cut through the cool, quiet afternoon
with such intense clarity
that both the dogs and I stopped in our tracks
to look in the direction from where it came.
A woman’s voice
loud
low
anguished
cried out from a big house
down a small street
at the edge of town.
I knew almost instantly
it was not a cry for help
because I had rattled my own walls very recently
with similar sounds
when news of my mother’s death reached me
and I was forced to face it alone
thousands of miles from what once was home.
Instinctively I wanted to move toward her sorrow
offer comfort
offer company
but I knew such new pain
needed to be tempered with solitude
tears
time to process
and purge.
I looked up and down the streets
for someone
anyone
who might have heard her wails
and shared my heartache
as helpless witness
to such profound sadness.
But no one was about
just the dogs and me
and I suddenly felt intrusive
and newly stricken by my recent loss,
so on we moved
each step ushering its own fresh tears
coming stronger and stronger
as the sounds of her fierce despair
faded into the distance.
Her pain
is now entwined with mine
two unacquainted mourners
ever connected in our losses
in our sorrows.
Each time I pass her street
and recall her suffering
I feel her presence
(though a stranger to mine)
and am trusting time
has eased her pain
her tears
the grief.
Author: Anne Celano Frohna
I have been writing for as long as I could hold a pencil in hand and would not feel complete without it.
And I actually made a meager living at it (and as an editor) for 25 years.
I worked for newspapers and magazines, in graphic arts and advertising, and wrote several local history books.
But I have also taught English in Japan, been a Nanny/family chef in Italy, worked in and for museums, was an Airbnb Superhost for four years, as well as an Etsy shop owner, where I sold vintage items I found over the years at thrift stores and yard sales.
After moving to Arizona with my family in 2010, I completed a series of different writing projects, including two books of creative non-fiction:
Just West of the Midwest: a comedy (Based on journals I kept during my two years as an English teacher in rural Japan.)
Within Close Range: short stories of an American Childhood (Short stories and poems about growing up as the middle of five children in suburban Chicago.)
But in the past few years, I have found my voice in poetry.
I am a mother of two wonderful girls, Eva (26) and Sophia (24) and wife to one wonderful husband, Kurt.
In 2023, with our girls grown and off on their own, my husband and I packed up our things and moved to the tip of Italy’s heel, to the Salento region, where I continue to work on my poetry, as well as a new fiction project, and indulge in my passion for mosaics - all of which you can view on my Instagram page @ acfrohna.
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Dog-eared Stories by anne celano frohna 