Moonlight floods a city so completely that it feels like an invasion. Bonta treats the light as a conquering force: it takes the streets, then moves toward the water "with drawn swords," as if soldiers were marching down to the shore. The strangeness of that image is part of the point. Something normally gentle and beautiful has become threatening.
The speaker's side of the scene is helpless. "We met it like dead men" suggests people who are frozen, silent, and resigned. Nobody speaks, and nobody can move "in the dirt," which puts them low to the ground, beaten down, and powerless in front of this brilliant light. The title's word "Ghetto" suggests a place where people are confined, so the moon's conquest may echo how those people feel watched, exposed, or overpowered. The poem doesn't spell this out, though.
The mood is hushed and tense, a mix of awe and dread. The light is lovely, but it feels like something to fear.