A person sits drinking alone, and instead of dwelling on loneliness, the speaker looks out at the street and sees something like a stage. The title, "Vagrant," suggests someone without a fixed home, and the poem quietly turns that idea around. If the street is a "good play," it is something to watch, and watching it gives the speaker a kind of belonging.
The last lines carry the main twist. Someone with no house might be expected to feel lost, but this speaker sees "home in all directions." Home is not a single place behind a door; it is everywhere the street stretches. That idea is both freeing and a little sad, since it may be a way of making peace with having nothing else.
The mood is calm, wry, and slightly wistful. The short lines and plain words give the poem a quiet, unhurried feel, like a thought spoken softly over a drink. It never begs for pity, and that restraint makes the speaker's acceptance feel believable.