The title gives the poem its real subject: a morning with no word from someone. The scene is small and domestic. A cat comes in through the flap, follows the speaker around "like a free newspaper," and lands "sure as a cat – on all fours." Everything that arrives is unwanted: the cat, a packet of samples, junk. The one thing the speaker wants, a message through the letter-slot, doesn't come.
The speaker's mood is flat, restless and a little sour. The weather is wet and cold, and the house feels "crosser and keener," as though the irritation has soaked into the rooms. The cat sitting on the newspaper is a funny, deflating detail, as if even the news has been blocked. The poem ends on a direct question, "Can anyone see any sense in it?", which sounds half joking and half hurt. The speaker never says what is missing, but the title and the tone suggest that waiting for that word is what makes the morning feel so empty.