In just a few lines, this poem puts us in a dark office late at night, where a clock seems to have bent time out of its normal shape. The speaker is alone, or at least still, "sitting" in the dark, and the scene feels quiet and slightly eerie.
The title, "Parsimonious," means stingy, and it shapes how we read the ending. Midnight "rations out the new," as if the next moment, the next day, or something fresh were being handed over in tiny, grudging portions. The image suggests that time late at night moves slowly and gives little away. The speaker doesn't announce a feeling, but the poem hints at waiting, weariness, or a kind of suspended patience. The mood is hushed, cool, and a little lonely. The poem stops mid-thought, with "the new" left hanging, which makes the reader feel that wait too.