Written as a single line, this poem is a small snapshot of solitude. The speaker announces that nobody else is around, only "me and these gently bleating crickets." That's the whole scene, and its power comes from how little it contains.
The tone is hard to pin down, and that's part of the interest. "No one here" could sound lonely, even a little bleak. But the crickets change things. Calling their sound "gently bleating" makes them feel almost like small grazing animals, soft and harmless, and the speaker counts them as company. They are placed right beside "me," as if they were equals. The mood, then, seems quiet and calm, with a faint trace of loneliness underneath.
Judging by the wording, the speaker is outdoors or somewhere open, probably at night, though the poem never says so. It leaves that to the reader's imagination, which makes the moment feel intimate and still.