Alan Kurdi (poem)

Fishbone bed and a grave
of sand. A dead crab washes ashore,

a plastic bottle bobs in seafroth
and green weeds. This is no place

for a boy. Someone will come.
A gull inflates like a lung

and floats on salty air. This
is no place for a boy.

______________________________

This poem first appeared in Issue 2 of Rabid Oak. It is included in my upcoming book of poetry, Bright Soil, Dark Sun, which is available now for pre-order purchase through Finishing Line Press.

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