A woman spends a quiet day drifting between her bed and a coffee shop. The poem opens with her "drowning in the sun," wishing clouds would come, which suggests the brightness feels heavy rather than cheerful. She makes a small trip for her "daily dosage" of cold coffee, then returns home, and the routine sounds automatic, even a little tired.
When the clouds finally roll in, she watches them "1 by 1," and the pace of the poem slows with her. She seems to find some relief here, though it's a flat, passive kind of relief. The word "dosage" makes the coffee sound almost like medicine, and the final image of her smoking her "last cigarette" adds a note of finality, though the poem doesn't say what is ending.
The mood is lonely, still, and quietly worn out, but not dramatic. The speaker doesn't complain. She just sits back and lets the day pass, and the plain, simple language makes that feel believable.