Smog hangs over a place, and the poem sets that haze against a mountain peak that disappears and returns. The speaker starts with a loss: "all the things our ink / signed away." Ink suggests contracts, laws, permits, agreements, the paperwork by which people trade something valuable for convenience or profit. The poem never says exactly what was given up, and that vagueness makes the sense of loss feel wide and a little guilty, since "our" includes the speaker.
Then comes a small surprise. The peak "comes back in the evening / to rest." The mountain is almost an animal or a tired traveler, returning when the day's haze settles or lifts. The mood is quiet and tender, with an undercurrent of regret. The speaker seems grateful for the view, yet aware that its return is a gift, not a guarantee. Short lines and the final word "rest" slow everything down, leaving a calm that feels fragile.