Pale whale

Call me Moby,
he moaned, I am
the white whale with the
golden ambergris,
a blue sheep in a green sea
the tilting eyes
that unfathomably see
and do not forget
breaking glass
and all the colors
not needed.

I have left
footprints, where I have no feet.
Though I manage to move by strokes, I tell
the surface by light in weight bars, falsetto
where exposure to so much blue and grey
was too much to separate species.
It makes one sink
and red
and takes one's breath away
making fountains
without gills.

It is my special skill,
Moby would say.

Five-thousand leagues later,
all blues went grey,
and all green
settled for sheep.



Photo credit By Commander John Bortniak, NOAA Corps (NOAA) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.