Davis, Susan

English

University of Montana

CutBank Volume 1 Issue 13 CutBank 13 Article 35 Fall 1979 The Doll in the Sheepfield Susan Davis Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.umt.edu/cutbank  Part of the Creative Writing Commons Let us know how access to this document benefits you. Recommended Citation Davis, Susan (1979) "The Doll in the Sheepfield," CutBank: Vol. 1 : Iss. 13 , Article 35. Available at: https://scholarworks.umt.edu/cutbank/vol1/iss13/35 This Poetry is brought to you for free and open access by ScholarWorks at University of Montana. It has been accepted for inclusion in CutBank by an authorized editor of ScholarWorks at University of Montana. For more information, please contact scholarworks@mso.umt.edu. Susan DavisTHE DOLL IN THE SHEEPFIELDShe sets me high on the fence post so I can watch them move sheep.The family can ’t afford a sheepdog so by token of size the girl runs them, staggering through mud, a stick in her hands, tripping herself up, yelping at the s tray’s heels. And over and over they get away from her, the m an yelling “C a n ’t you do anything. T urn  them. Turn  them all at once. D o n ’t scatter them .” until at last it’s done. They go to walkthe fences and she grabs me soaked with sweat in the cold wind and flushed crawls in under the fig leaves. Rolls me contorted into a ball forced up to her face to muffle sound.Her hot breath pushes through me.I can almost imagine breathing.Until, calm, she smooths my arms and legs out and rocks me, sings me to sleep:“A n n ’s not alive.Neither am I.A n n ’s not alive.Neither am I.”Infinitely calm and rocking.Rocking.55

The Doll in the Sheepfield

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The Doll in the Sheepfield

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