My Boar

I christened you on the eight day
With the kings, chiefs, and governors in the world;
We sat and drank and dined
On grapes, strawberries and honey;
As I sang for you.
They spent themselves with the varieties
Of gifts, as a token of our time together;
Until you dropped off and missed
The end of the feast.

Crawling down from the end
Like the hopping of the sunbirds
On their slender legs.
I bathed and gave you the finest cloth,
And fed you on the good meal,
And laid you in the crib,
But you went out to grunt over dirt
And swam in the swamp.

I searched and found you,
But I didn’t know what to say than,
Should I christen you again,
My boar?