The poem is short and slippery, and it leaves a lot unsaid. It opens with a strange phrase, "a solemn day for lying," which makes lying sound almost like a ceremony. Then "the truth dropped" arrives with a thud, as if truth were something let fall, or perhaps something shot down. The title, "Summit," suggests a high-level meeting where leaders talk and may not be honest, though the poem never says so outright. That reading is an inference, not something the text spells out.
The second stanza switches to questions: "what do they shoot / at that time of day / how high is high." The speaker sounds puzzled, maybe uneasy, wondering what is going on and how far things have climbed. "Shoot" could mean photographing, hunting, or something more violent, and the poem lets all of these hang there. The mood is quiet, wary, and a little eerie. The speaker doesn't announce an opinion; they just ask, and the unanswered questions leave a sense of doubt.