Bonta borrows the blues habit of starting every verse with the same line, "Woke up this morning," and squeezes each one into a haiku. What follows is a string of small, odd moments rather than one story. A bird hits the window, a dream turns the sleeper into the monster, the power goes out, an empty stomach grumbles.
The speaker sounds wry and a little worn down. Nothing dramatic happens, but there is a steady undercurrent of loss and discomfort: the dead bird, the aching spine, the clock with its blank face. The humor keeps it from getting heavy, especially the "sweet nothings" of hunger.
The ninth stanza shifts things. Frost in the yard sits beside "I got your letter," and the reader is left to guess what the letter means. The final lines, with their reds and yellows, settle on "Another autumn," which suggests time passing and a quiet acceptance. The overall mood is gentle, observant, and tinged with melancholy.