The Nothing Day

Half-light, half bright

Not quite morning, neither night

The breeze is still, the birds are quiet

A nothing day, an empty riot

The oak stands tall, it's mood contrite

A Robin lands but then takes flight

The earth accepts its solemn plight

A nothing day, the image trite

The fox skulks on, its tail tucked tight

A russet blur and flash of white

The verdict brought, a bleak indict

A nothing day, a sickly blight

Half-light, half-bright

Not quite evening, not yet night

It's almost gone, this mild affray

Tomorrow's memory, a nothing day,