Here, a speaker clears out the leftovers of a stale life. The old jokes and excuses, the sort of things we keep repeating to dodge change, get wrapped in yesterday's newspaper and burned in a kitchen stove. The act is small and ordinary, but the speaker says plainly, "It was good to let them go." Even the bad news in the paper turns to ashes.
After the burning, the poem shifts outward. The smell lingers briefly, then fades, and the sun takes over the morning. It "held my attention" and pulls the speaker away from dust, dirty dishes and cold floors, the indoor signs of neglect, and into a yard of grass that is "green, green, growing, / Triumphant."
The mood moves from quiet housekeeping to relief and then a gentle joy. The repeated "green" feels like a lift in energy, and the broken, uneven lines let the poem breathe like someone stepping outside. It is about starting fresh, simply and without fuss.