A Sonnet for Alan Kurdi

one day you wrote your name upon the strand
a while, there was the imprint of your face
little sneakers denting the brackish sand
the sea touching your brow, a diadem of lace

the sweetest boy that ever reached the shore
so beautiful, so wonderful, now dead
you were alive, full-coloured, hours before
the wind roughly and softly made your bed

I swore, we swore, never to forget:
Alan, you’ll be the difference, yes, you will
we loved so deep, the moment that we met
then we unmet, as you lay there, so still

but came the waves and washed you away
but came the waves and washed you away