Over just a few short lines, the speaker addresses the morning directly and asks it for a change. The wish is odd and tender: to be changed "with my father's house," as if the speaker and the house might be transformed together, then "come home / to a tent."
The title, "Shrink/age," hints at what is going on. Splitting the word suggests both shrinking and a kind of aging, and the poem seems to picture a solid house shrinking into something light and temporary. A tent can be taken down and carried, so it feels less permanent than a house, though it is also simpler and more open to the air. The poem doesn't say whether the speaker finds this loss or relief.
The mood is quiet, a little wistful, and strangely accepting. The speaker isn't angry about change. Instead, the poem reads like a morning prayer, asking to return to something smaller, humbler, and perhaps closer to the earth. Judging by the imagery, family, home, and growing older all sit close together here.