The speaker sits in daylight reading words that someone else is typing in the dark, so the two people are separated by the planet's turning. The poem first blames the earth itself for this gap: its spin, its magnetic field, its molten core all seem to come between them. Then it shifts. The real obstacles, the speaker says, are human ones: the state, its arbitrary lines, the border guards demanding security checks, and the cruelty of "if you're poor, stay out."
The ending turns hopeful. The earth is pictured as a knitter, pulling people together with forces that converge and quietly repairing every "fraying thread." The title's pun on "Net Work" fits both the internet link between the two people and this patient mending.
The mood moves from wistful and slightly bitter to calm, even consoling. The speaker seems to trust that connection is more natural than division.