The speaker looks at Ice Mountain on a day when clouds cover its top. With the wind turbines hidden, it seems like an unspoiled mountain again. The poem opens with a small relief, a brief return to something natural and whole.
Then the view drops to the subdivision below, which the speaker calls ugly. The poem recalls a black family waking to a burning cross there. It's stated flatly, with no commentary, and that restraint makes it hit harder. The landscape may look clean from a distance, but its human history isn't.
The last stanza turns to a small find: a shed antler on the powerline, shaped like the bottom half of a stick figure. The image echoes the title, "Effigies," since an effigy is a figure standing in for a person, and a burning cross is a kind of effigy of hatred. The mood is quiet, uneasy, and observant. The speaker doesn't shout, but can't stop seeing what lies under the pretty view.