In just three short lines, this poem describes something ordinary and slightly absurd. The first two lines sound like a description of a room, or maybe a building: it's an office in the morning, then a home by noon. That's a familiar kind of shift, especially for anyone who works where they live. The last line swerves. The thing being described turns out to be "a very busy stone."
That odd ending changes how we read everything before it. A stone is the opposite of busy; it sits still and does nothing. By calling it busy, the poem suggests that a house, or a person living in it, can feel like an object that is constantly being asked to serve a new function. The speaker seems gently amused, maybe a little tired. The tone is dry and wry rather than angry. The mood is quiet and humorous, with a hint of weariness underneath, as if the speaker is noticing how little rest a plain, solid space gets.