Dave Bonta's "Unwinding" is only four lines, but it holds a whole mood of slowing down at the end of a day. The opening comparison is the key: the day is "long as a sermon" and also like "a letter in clear ink." One image suggests something drawn out, maybe a little wearying. The other suggests something open, readable and honest. Together they make the day feel both stretched and clear, as if nothing was hidden in it.
The second half turns toward what comes next. The speaker wants the day to last so that "tomorrow might not appear / where we drink." The word "we" matters: this is shared, a moment with someone else, perhaps over a drink, though the poem doesn't say exactly where or who. The feeling is quiet reluctance. The speaker isn't sad so much as content, wanting to stay in this evening a bit longer and keep the future at a distance. The mood is relaxed, intimate and gently wistful.