The speaker looks back with a quiet ache at a time when drink, or the intoxication it brought, seemed to be the center of life. The title, "Over the influence," suggests that this period is finished, and the poem's first line, "I miss," admits that finishing it came with a loss. The speaker doesn't pretend the old life was ugly. Wine is something they "used to live for," and the "fire in my head" and the "mist" sound almost beautiful, a heat and a haze that made the world feel larger.
Then the poem turns. After a break, the speaker recalls "the high elms" singing "in the dark." It's unclear whether this is part of the old, drunken world or something that remains now, and that uncertainty is part of the charm. The mood is wistful and honest, without a lecture or a neat moral. Longing and relief sit side by side, and the last image leaves a hushed, open feeling.