Don't expect a story here. The poem works more like a collage of sounds and sensations, and it asks you to follow the music of the words rather than a plot. It opens with harsh, grinding language, "scour and prying", as if something is being scraped or forced open. Then the images get strange: ears that find "their portion of feet," as though hearing and walking have merged into one body.
The second stanza turns bright and restless. A "noise like diamonds" suggests something hard, glittering, and sharp, while "galloping pilgrimage" combines speed with a slow, purposeful journey. The poem ends on "a caught between," an unfinished phrase that leaves us hanging in a gap.
The speaker doesn't state a feeling outright. Judging by the language, the mood is one of tense curiosity: movement, friction, and searching, without a clear destination. It's unsettling but also playful, and it invites you to enjoy the oddness rather than solve it.