Six short lines, and the poem keeps turning on a small pun. The title, "Us(e)", hides a single letter: take away the "e" and you have "us," keep it and you have "use." That tiny difference is exactly what the poem is about. What separates people from one another, it suggests, is not much more than a table, an ordinary object that can be a barrier, a meeting place, or both.
The speaker seems wry and a little detached, watching people as they go about their business. Everyone is "minding" a "nothing of several uses," a phrase that makes daily routines sound busy but hollow. The last lines pile up the chores of counting: ewes (female sheep) and esses (the letter S), night and day. Judging by the wordplay, the speaker sees work and language as the same kind of tally-keeping. The mood is quietly playful but also slightly weary, as if the poem is smiling at how small our divisions and our habits really are.