A person alone in a quiet house lets a word slip out, and the sound of it breaks the silence. The word is "little" and so is the moment, yet the poem treats it as an event. The word "accidentally" matters here: the speaker didn't mean to speak, which suggests how rarely any voice is heard in this place. Speaking aloud happens almost by mistake.
The next line, "no one to talk to," states the loneliness plainly, without self-pity or drama. Then comes the last line, "supper is only a pear," which shrinks the speaker's life down to one small, bare meal. The word "only" carries the sadness.
The mood is hushed, spare, and quietly sad, though not hopeless. The title, "Soliloquy," points to speech made with no listener, and the poem is built the same way: a few short lines, a lot of empty space around them. The reader is left in that silence too.