The Day Is Gone Poem by Paul Reed

The heads of the daffodils
Bob in the fading light
Like old men in a bar
The day has had it's fill
Slowly slips out of sight
The breezes call from afar;

The lonely hillside
Bathed in gloom
Settling the grass to rest
Village lights abide
Twinkling in each room
The day has seen it's best;

Whatever hopes were born
Dreams lived out
Or depended upon
Are now listless, torn
Scattered all about
The day has been and gone.