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King Pig
Three of us were out,
Looking for something in an old place.
Above, on a hill, was a structure which,
It turned out, was built into the land
To catch water, part of a farm.
Another time, they collected rainwater
From a hillside, serving troughs.
The buildings were gone,
The fences were gone,
The system worked nonetheless.
We came to one such,
It worked as if from nature,
Rocks in the earth.
While we were there, admiring,
A noise came from the brush,
Many creatures were coming.
The sows brushed our legs,
They watched us while the piglets
Were happy, going to drink.
Another noise which made us look at each other,
And stopped the thought of easy-going,
Began far enough away to speak of a large pig,
The King Pig. When he emerged,
There was no question who ruled.
I knew not to look in his eyes,
The three of us were afraid.
One of us, an unusual guy,
Pulled a small can of V8 juice
From his pack, poured it on a flat rock,
And the King Pig drank it.
After he finished, he snorted.
Why that snort made it OK
For us to be there is a mystery.
We left walking, then running,
Then waiting for the slowest of us to
Catch up, who was still running,
Very funny to see running,
Who had probably never run before.
We returned to our camp,
And played our guitars,
Talking and laughing
About the King Pig.
