Written as a short report from a war, this poem gives almost no facts and leans on a few stark images instead. The day is "ash," so everything feels burnt out and finished. Then the sea takes a body, and the speaker pauses on how odd that is: the body "was / a person in the land." The line break makes the word "was" land hard, because the person has already slipped from being someone to being something the water carries off.
The tone is quiet and numb rather than angry. The speaker reports the death flatly, as if it has become routine. Then the ending turns. The shore "sang," and the song is called "a messenger from tomorrow." It's unclear whether this is real hope or a stubborn, almost unbearable one. Judging by the imagery, the poem sets grief and a faint promise of continuing life side by side, and it doesn't resolve them. The mood is somber, hushed, and strangely open.