A speaker walks down a dark street at night, and the poem catches what they notice and how they hold themselves. The street is "busy," packed with doors and "high words," which suggests voices, arguments or chatter spilling out from buildings. Calling it a "confiture," a fancy word for jam or preserve, is a surprising choice. It makes the street feel thick and sticky, crowded with lives pressed close together.
The speaker admits to "pretend[ing] to know trouble." That line sounds a little self-aware, as if they are playing at being tough or experienced, which fits the title "Streetwise." Yet the last line softens the pose. They pass "some heart tempered with sleep," which suggests someone calm, or a person worn down and resting, rather than a threat.
The mood is quiet and watchful, with a touch of gentle humor. The speaker seems like an outsider looking in, more curious than afraid.