The speaker visits a graveyard where her great-grandfather lies under wild flowers, along with the sons who came after him. The poem is compressed and fragmentary, so it reads almost like thoughts caught mid-step. The line "sons here now I / eye / of us all" plays on the sound of "I" and "eye": the speaker becomes the one who watches and remembers for the whole family line.
Then comes the turn: she is "sonless." The family stretches back through fathers and sons, but it seems to stop with her. The broken phrase "see no / hop / clover boy to stop / before me" suggests she sees no boy hopping through the clover, no child coming to stand where she stands. The wording is tricky, so this is an interpretation, but the loss feels clear.
The mood is quiet and wistful. Nothing is dramatic or loudly mourned. The short lines and gaps make the feeling seem restrained, as if the speaker is facing the end of a lineage with plain, steady honesty.