The speaker talks directly to a small plant, the Appalachian barren strawberry, and gives it instructions as if it were a younger neighbor. The opening picture is a clearing left by loggers, and the plant is asked to cover the "grave" of a tree's shadow with a green blanket. It's a gentle, practical kind of mourning: don't just grieve the loss, fill it with life.
The advice that follows is about staying modest and tough. Grow low, keep close together, turn sunlight into sugar, and be thankful before the bees arrive. The plant is even told to stay unappealing: small, hard fruit and useless roots, so that only birds will bother it. The title name is a joke here, since it is "neither barren nor strawberry."
The last lines, "Stay together. Learn the humans. Stow light," are short and almost whispered. The mood is tender, wry, and quietly hopeful, with a sense that survival depends on humility, community, and not drawing too much attention from people who tend to take things.