Gloria

I called the doll Gloria.

I no longer know why.

My father bought her for me

on a trip to the seaside,

on my first trip to the seaside.

I was bored with the endless sand

and the cold grey sea

and with the effort of pretending

to enjoy myself

on my expensive treat,

at the seaside.

We went to a toyshop after

and my father bought me the doll.

I called her Gloria.

I no longer no why.

Perhaps it was the name he suggested.

Or maybe my mother suggested it

when I couldn’t decide.

I don’t remember.

But I remember the doll.

She had real hair that I could comb.

But it turned out to be plastic,

nylon, I think.

And 

after I had combed it a few times,

the whole lot came off leaving her bald.

Yes

without her wig she was completely bald,

my Gloria.

https://www.thepoetmagazine.org/winter-2020---childhood