The poem sets a harsh, bright scene and then turns toward a wish. Noon "comes to stay," which suggests a sun that doesn't move on, a hard, shadowless light with no relief. The speakers, "being poor," accept a "government / of sand and spoil." That phrase is bleak: sand and waste are all they have to rule them, so the landscape itself seems to be in charge. The word "consent" is telling. They don't choose this so much as give in to it.
Then the last two lines shift. After the dry, barren images, the speaker says "we desire words / as close to home as the weather." They want language that is plain, familiar and unavoidable, the way weather is. The mood is weary but not defeated. There's a quiet longing underneath the poverty, and the title fits it: the people in the poem want to speak truthfully about their lives, without decoration or false promises.