The speaker looks across a wide, empty landscape and realizes that the green, rock-covered shapes in the distance were once a house. Wind and water have worn it down until only traces are left, just enough to "remind home." The grass now grows where people once rested their heads, and the poem seems to picture earlier generations who lived and slept there.
The feeling is quiet and wistful. The speaker doesn't rage at the loss; they simply observe it, and even admit the place might look like "just ruins of stones" to someone who didn't know better. That hint suggests the speaker sees more than a stranger would. The line about campfires, which nothing can replace after a storm, adds a note of warmth and longing for the comfort that used to be there. The ending is bleak but calm: what remains is only a long mark on the ground. The mood is reflective, a little lonely, and gently mournful.