Six short lines sketch a coastal scene in October: leaves rustling in the sedge, a greyhound suddenly racing off its lead, kittiwakes diving, the sea restless below. Each image is quick and slightly edgy. The leaves "jostle," the dog "bolts," the sea "fidgets," as if everything is on the move and nothing can settle. The birds plunge "aloof," untroubled by anything around them.
The last two lines turn to "you." The cliff is "nerveless" and "will not ground your load," which suggests that whatever burden the reader carries can't be set down here. Nature offers no sympathy or support. The poem doesn't say what the load is, so we can read it as worry, grief, or simply the weight of being a person. The mood is cool, restless, and a little bleak, but also clear-eyed. The landscape doesn't comfort, though it doesn't threaten either. It just carries on, indifferent.