the wheel of my bike
hits a hole in the old road
rattling my bag
like a sack of old bones.
the day’s ample booty
makes me feel giddy
we scavenged so much
the bikes now feel heavy
but the clouds keep the sun
from its onerous heat
and the wind gives enough
to move on down the street
to search old stone walls
and piles of debris
for the past and the pieces
of the people by the sea
fragments of lives
lay atop and within
the walls made of stone
made of sweat, made by kin
bits of old plates
shards from a bowl
a pitcher’s large handle
what tales might they tell
what struggles, what triumphs
lives lost and loves gained
when these bits were once whole
was there joy, was there pain
some fragments so dear
you can see the repairs
did it break someone’s heart
when it ended up here
were they glad to be rid
of the once stylish tile
making way for the new
adding more to the pile
the strange looks we get
from the people who pass
as we dig through the garbage,
the rocks, and the glass
all most of them see
are scraps and old stones
what Kurt and I see
is the art in its bones
each fragment a part
of a tale to unfold
each remnant, each color
some new and some old
new life will soon rise
from these pirated parts
new days to be loved
old love to make art
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 