The poem reads like a small, strange riddle about hunger and survival. The title, "What feeds us," points us toward the question of what really sustains a person, and the three short pairs of lines offer an unsettling answer.
The speaker says their "other selves" hate the leopard. It's hard to say for certain what the leopard stands for, but it seems to be a fierce, predatory part of the speaker, or something wild that they take on. When it silences all the other voices, the speaker can "walk in cold weather," as if that single, focused instinct is what makes it possible to go out into harsh conditions.
The last image is the most striking: ice has "laid the cloth for dinner." Winter becomes a host, setting a table that is beautiful but empty and hard. The mood is stark, quiet, and a little menacing. Nothing is comforting here, yet there is a sense of grim clarity, of a self reduced to what it needs in order to go on.