Dave Bonta takes a phrase we say without thinking, "Have a nice day," and breaks it apart until something stranger shows up. The letters stay almost the same, but the line breaks and spacing reshape them: "O, an ice / day—a night- / to-be." The cheerful send-off becomes a cold, odd little image of an icy day that is already turning into night.
What the speaker feels is harder to pin down, and that's part of the charm. The tone seems quietly wry, even a little wistful. The poem takes a polite formula and finds a chill underneath it, as if the blandness of small talk were hiding something darker. The dash and the hyphen carry you across the lines, so the day slides toward evening almost before you notice.
The mood is cool, playful, and slightly eerie. It's funny that a pleasantry can be reworked so easily, but the result also feels like a small warning that the day won't last.