Sha’ban Ahmed

Two hands reaching across. Curling

up and in. Protection

Like the right hand of an angel. Fending

off bombs. He’d survived a blast the week before. Inevitable

Is one of the oldest lies. Eyes turned rubble. Looking

up, had he been asleep when flames suddenly

Engulfed everything? Floating

to the left was his IV chord. In his hospital bed. Now

He is swallowed. Screaming

something intrinsic. Broke

The world. Emblazoned

across all eyes. Slow. His mother

Would tell you: my son, the engineer. Kept

up his studies amidst. Days

From his 20th birthday. My son, a hafiz. Memorized

the whole Qur’an. Except

She too was burnt alive. Carried

far beyond al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. He had built

Their home, a tent: five-times displaced. Landed

soft like a sunset. A golden eagle. Ashes

Coating twisted iron by daybreak. Written

once more into the Book of Life. Just remember, With

every person, a universe. Now you know his name.

Zachary Wager Scholl is a Brooklyn-based writer, artist and educator. He is currently attending City College’s MFA program in non-fiction. He was a 2023 recipient of New York State Council on the Arts Apprenticeship Grant for his studies in unaccompanied Yiddish folk singing traditions. Previous written work has been published in the Heels and Wheels anthology Glitter & Grit; previous visual work showcased at the Open Society Institute’s Moving Walls exhibit, and Jewish Currents Magazine. He has self-produced cooking videos in both English and Yiddish.