Night whale

The wail of the night whale brims with
woebegone notes. The call rises –
falls like his chest, as he breathes.
Swimming alone through the sky
like a solitary boat on a misty lake,
he feeds on twilight.
He balloons and deflates
opening, closing his mouth to eat.
And he sneezes, sneezes sound as
he daubs the sky black, spouting
night onto more night.
His small eyes frost, dropping
tinkling teardrop stars onto his canvas.