In the Aftermath
Celeste Oster | Poetry, Fall 2026
everything is fire,
some days bloom delicate petals
of flame, some days, we count
the flames in snakes with snake-
tongued sparks, we line
our clothes with embers, sleep
on kindling, stare skyward
watching for bombs,
some days,
shoe soles melting,
we dance.
when the sky rains ash,
we remember
greening trees, forsythia,
cherry blossoms falling.
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Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“Years ago, I met a woman who had fled Afghanistan on foot with her six week old baby and two small girls. She told me that before the bombs came, the place she lived was just like here, that her neighborhood had been full of normal people who went to work and took care of their families. My Trace Fossil contemplates how people cope with the extraordinary stress of being caught in a war zone, what community looks like in those circumstances, and where one might find comfort in the middle of unimaginable horror.”
Celeste Oster is a yoga teacher and poet. Her work has appeared in Another Chicago Magazine and Switchgrass Review.
In the Aftermath
Celeste Oster | Poetry, Fall 2026
everything is fire,
some days bloom delicate petals
of flame, some days, we count
the flames in snakes with snake-
tongued sparks, we line
our clothes with embers, sleep
on kindling, stare skyward
watching for bombs,
some days,
shoe soles melting,
we dance.
when the sky rains ash,
we remember
greening trees, forsythia,
cherry blossoms falling.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“Years ago, I met a woman who had fled Afghanistan on foot with her six week old baby and two small girls. She told me that before the bombs came, the place she lived was just like here, that her neighborhood had been full of normal people who went to work and took care of their families. My Trace Fossil contemplates how people cope with the extraordinary stress of being caught in a war zone, what community looks like in those circumstances, and where one might find comfort in the middle of unimaginable horror.”
Celeste Oster is a yoga teacher and poet. Her work has appeared in Another Chicago Magazine and Switchgrass Review.