A speaker walks up a hill at 8:51 at night and notices the sky. It isn't a normal night sky. Light from the last hours of the day still hangs in it, and the clouds are edged with gold, looking like foam on the crest of waves. The sky becomes an ocean of blue, ivory, and gold stretched out overhead.
The speaker's feeling is quiet and settled. The three short lines, "it was calm / it was peaceful / it was comforting," work like slow breaths, each one easing the speaker a little further. The phrase "despite the circumstances" hints that something heavier is going on, though the poem never says what. The sky offers relief from it anyway.
The last line is the most interesting: "it was coming home, whatever it was." The speaker can't quite name the feeling, but it resembles belonging or returning somewhere safe. The mood is gentle, hushed, and quietly grateful.