wig
they gave me the cold
cap to stop my chemo
hair falling out
brain freeze
for hours
a tight band of nausea
but still my hair fell out
i swept up my gold
and silver
hairs
washed them
laid them out to dry
in neat lines
on an old multicoloured
beach towel
threaded a tapestry needle
with my hairs
sewed them through a perished
rubber swimming hat
smelling of summers
chlorine
talc
i wore my wig
to let my hair down
danced with myself
round my empty house
Sarah Crowe is a poet based in Norwich. She has an MA in Poetry (UEA). She has published in Ink Sweat & Tears, Egg Box Publishing and South Bank Poetry magazine and was recently longlisted in the Dithering Chaps pamphlet competition.