Pliabilities

Who is She?

She's a whisper on the wind, a gleam on the edge of the horizon. Her spirit beckons and I long to catch that ride yet her mystery eludes me. Do I think too much or not enough, did the light turn red when I wasn't looking? I don't get what it is I'm missing but I'm determined not to miss out any longer than I have to. She's sly and she's wily but I can feel her playful spirit tickling my desire. I want to be her, at least some of the time, especially when the moon is new and the light hides her features from the probing eyes of judgmental interlopers. Do you think I've offended her somehow?