The speaker describes a cold, bright morning and then meets Autumn in person. Everything before that moment sets the scene: the grass is wet with dew that looks like honey as it dries, the sky is a sharp blue, the air feels icy, and the leaves hold on to the branches as if they have claws. The morning is "unmellow," so the season hasn't softened yet. It still feels raw and a little tense.
Then Autumn appears as a young man, and he seems made from the morning itself. His hair carries the dew and honey colours of the grass, and his eyes hold the icy blue of the sky. The speaker seems fascinated, even awed. The ending is the strangest part. Autumn laughs, kneels, and digs his fingers into the earth. The gesture feels playful and physical, but also a little mysterious, as though he is planting something or claiming the ground. The mood is fresh, crisp, and quietly charged with energy.