Two short images sit side by side here, and the poem leaves us to work out how they connect. In the first, a reed, something tall, slender and visible above ground, means nothing to a mole. The mole lives underground, so its world is made of soil, roots and darkness, and the things we notice from above simply don't register. The title, "Geophilic," means "earth-loving," which suggests the mole's way of seeing is a kind of devotion to the ground.
The second image is harsher. A stone causes pain, and that pain "makes bloody water." Down in the dirt, what matters is what you actually bump against. The poem seems to say that each creature's world is shaped by what touches it most directly. The speaker's feeling is hard to pin down, but the tone is quiet and unsentimental, even a little grim. The mood is cool and compressed, with a sense that the earth is both home and hazard.