Black shadows are all sycophants
That mimic every shape.
White shadows seal their bearers up,
And bury what they ape.
Black shadows curl off thick sunlight,
And launch themselves from dust.
White shadows flake from winter’s breath,
Congealed as vapor’s rust.
In two dimensions, or in three,
Shade and snow are booleans,
Dark in intersection tracing truth.
And snow in difference.
I did have a line with eight syllables in the last stanza when it should have had only six. I could try to sell that synaeresis makes it one vowel, an additional syllable at the end of the line to make it a tetrameter line with a weak ending but nobody will buy that. I ******* up.