I am the part of the bird that is not in the sky, who can drown in the ocean and yet remain dry. A last vestige of man that refuses to die. In mourning I am tossed at your feet to lie; I begin my job early, devouring your ankles and thighs. I work my way up, eating your legs to your waist. And though around midday away I am chased, I return quickly to savor the arm of my taste. As evening falls I enter your lungs, spiraling down past your mouth and your tongue. I feast on your body, your soul, and your mind, but as darkness falls you shall find that away I will go, a relief for some; At least until tomorrow morning comes. What am I?

Why this works

This riddle cleverly uses metaphors and imagery to describe the nature of a shadow. Initially, it states that a shadow is part of a bird that is "not in the sky," suggesting that it exists on the ground rather than in the air, just like a shadow exists on surfaces rather than floating away. The phrase about drowning in the ocean yet remaining dry plays on the idea that while a shadow can appear on the water's surface, it cannot get wet itself. As the riddle progresses, the language evokes the idea of time and movement—shadows grow and shrink with the sun's position, "devouring" your legs and waist as the day goes on, and disappearing at noon when the sun is directly overhead. The "mourning" reference connects to the dark color of shadows and how they can symbolize loss, while the imagery of entering your lungs at evening symbolizes how shadows elongate as the sun sets. Ultimately, the riddle plays with the concept of a shadow being omnipresent, yet evanescent, highlighting its fleeting nature that returns daily.