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, so dead

you were alive, full-coloured, hours before

the wind roughly but 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