The Sea Pig

Pig left his pen
Somewhere south of here
A life in the slop
Was ordinary
He longed to look at moving waters.
"A brine bath," he thought."Sounds fine."
A trotter he dredged through the shallows.
The current carried him out to sea
He'd never felt so light
So free
It may have been days
He didn't wear a watch
He longed to dive to the floor
But he absorbed the watery life around him
His swelling hide, it
Buoyed him up
To his annoyance.
The pig resolved:
"Before my next jount to the sea
AloneI'll fill my pockets upWith stones."