Set on the final night before a mine closes, the poem catches a group of workers who all seem to be asking the same question: where can we go from here? The speaker says "we," so the feeling is shared, not private. Nobody is giving a speech. They just talk, the way people do when something big is ending and they can't quite face it directly.
The three escapes listed are odd, and that's what makes them stick. "Love's cruelty" is hardly a refuge, yet it appears alongside "a daytime office" and "a home to drink in." Judging by the list, none of these options sounds hopeful. One is painful, one is dull, one is numbing. The poem seems to suggest that when the work disappears, the alternatives are thin.
The mood is quiet, tired, and a little bleak. The short lines and plain wording leave gaps, and the reader fills them with the men's uncertainty and the weight of a way of life coming to an end.