Loe's poem is a snapshot of a still Sunday morning where the ordinary world and the human body seem to wake up together. Outside, newspapers pile up and wind-chimes catch the light, so bright they look like crowns. Inside, a naked man trims his beard and half-jokingly sees Jesus in the mirror. The poem then zooms out: his body becomes something almost cosmic, shaped by the universe and by his ancestors.
The images of sap rising and buds pressing against the window suggest spring and new life pushing toward the surface. The speaker seems to watch all of this with quiet wonder rather than judgment. The last lines, with girls "clad in breath" who move and pause like a hummingbird, treat the body as delicate and alive. The mood is calm, sensual, and reverent, as if an everyday Sunday ritual had become a kind of private worship of the physical world.