Dave Bonta's "Unmoored" is a short poem about feeling cut loose from yourself. The title sets the tone: a boat with no rope, drifting. The speaker can't say who they will become, and the first lines add a strange problem. Even if they knew, they couldn't pray to that future self. There is nothing solid to lean on, not even their own identity.
The speaker also says, "I fear the sun." Normally the sun is a comfort, but here it seems to stand for time moving forward, each day arriving whether the speaker is ready or not. Hours pass "without me," as if life goes on while the speaker stands to one side. The closing image of years that "just end / plain and thin" is quietly bleak. They don't finish with drama or meaning, only fade out.
The mood is anxious, lonely, and flat. The short lines and plain words make the feeling sharper: there's no big emotion on show, just a numb, uneasy sense of time slipping away.