The speaker walks into a bog at night and deliberately leaves the road behind. There's no clear reason given, only a quiet curiosity about "other things." The title, "Bog body," suggests the preserved human remains that peat bogs are known for, so the speaker may be imagining a kind of burial, or at least stepping into a place where the living and the dead feel close.
The second stanza is a humble admission. The speaker says they don't have enough philosophy to understand something as ordinary as bread, or something as intimate as touch. Both are basic, physical parts of being alive, yet they remain mysterious. Away from the road, the speaker seems to admit how little they can explain.
The mood is hushed, dark, and a little uneasy, but not frightening. It feels more like wondering than fear. The short, plain lines let the questions sit unanswered, much like the speaker standing in the dark.