poem #13
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.
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