A Commonplace Day

Nothing of tiniest worth
Have I wrought, pondered, planned; no one thing asking blame or
praise,
Since the pale corpse-like birth
Of this diurnal unit, bearing blanks in all its rays -
Dullest of dull-hued Days!

Wanly upon the panes
The rain slides as have slid since morn my colourless thoughts; and
yet
Here, while Day's presence wanes,
And over him the sepulchre-lid is slowly lowered and set,
He wakens my regret.

From A Commonplace Day by Thomas Hardy

Not entirely true as I did sort the laundry, put on the washing machine, then changed the water in the Tadpools and filled five birdfeeders but in the grand scheme of things these are not considered to be Work. It was a chilly, driech day all the same and better spent with a nice mug of real coffee and a book.

I'll be backblipping the missing days and hope to catch up on comments soon.