The speaker of this tiny poem goes home because their belongings seem to be calling out to them. The first lines turn objects into lonely creatures, left "all alone," waiting for someone to return. That small twist of imagination is what pulls the speaker back, as if leaving them behind were a kind of neglect.
Then comes the blunt admission: "We love one another. We cannot part." The tone is simple and almost childlike, with no hedging or embarrassment. The title, "Materialist," suggests the speaker knows how this sounds, since materialism usually means caring too much about possessions. Here, though, the feeling reads as tenderness rather than greed.
The mood is gently funny but also a little touching. The poem teases the speaker's attachment while taking it seriously, and it leaves us wondering whether the objects are really calling, or whether the speaker is the one who needs them.