First Edition features new original works by Northern California Jewish writers. Appearing the first issue of each month, it includes a poem and an excerpt from a novel or short story.
by sam veytser
The humid desert air
The coarse, worn carseat
On my way to Tel Aviv
Just another day in preschool
Taken out by my mom,
Her warm hands
Sweet, lavender perfume
Lifting me out, carrying me away
Just another day in preschool
A gentle wind blowing
The sound of crickets
The gentle rock of being carried
The bounce in her step
A shriek tears the air
Shredding it into pieces
Straight into my ears
A klaxon death machine
The gentle rocking now a tsunami
Increasing in speed
The ground shakes
Dust in my eyes
I see my friends
Sleeping on the ground
Eyes closed
“Get up”
I want to shout
“Come with me”
But all that comes out
Is an airless gurgle
The ground drops under me
The sky a crystal lake
I feel my body shutting down
I land next to her
I look into her warm brown eyes
Smell her sweet lavender perfume
Feel her rapidly cooling hands
And close my eyes for the last time
Sam Veytser is a 14-year-old freshman at Los Altos High School and a member of Congregation Beth Am. He lives in Mountain View.