The epigraph says the poem has nothing to do with 9/11, and then the poem spends its first lines listing what it leaves out: planes, flags, falling bodies, protest. By naming them, it keeps them in the room. That's the trick. The poem is about a tragedy by insisting on its absence.
What it offers instead is an ordinary meal. The speaker and his father eat soup with the radio off, as always. The speaker dips bread, slurps from the bowl, and notes that the soup is "hot, & so good." The attention is gentle and sensual. Meanwhile, the poem points to the "extraordinary events" of the natural world, in field, woodlot, air, soil, and water, which we are "knit" from.
The mood is calm, a little stubborn, and quietly grateful. The speaker doesn't dismiss the news so much as choose to notice what's close at hand. The final image, removing the stone from a ripe peach, feels both tender and slightly sobering.