A speaker sits down with a simple morning drink and calls it a "portion of nothing," as if the only thing on the menu is quiet and a little bitterness. The company is a crow, described as the "severest," which makes it sound like a stern, unsmiling companion rather than a friendly bird. Then the speaker overhears the crow scolding "some other owl," who seems "drowsy and vexed," a creature dragged out of its rest by noise.
The poem is tiny, but it sets up a funny, slightly tense scene. The speaker doesn't join the quarrel; they just listen, almost like someone eavesdropping on neighbors across a fence. The title, "Harried," fits the owl being hassled, and it may hint at the speaker feeling a bit pestered by the world too, though the poem doesn't say so directly. The mood is dry, wry, and watchful: a calm moment with coffee, interrupted by the small, grumpy drama of birds.