I see no explanation

For shadow clouds to move so smooth
Over trees overloved by the sun, never a winter.
The shade of dreams passing over her constant mind
For goats and not sheep that climb a vertical cliff
Just to taste the salt of the earth

For ocean breath whispering her sighs
amidst screaming birds

Perfect is the enemy of the Good
But this...

This great Wanderer, lush and forbidding,
Is least hostile for guests

Her bones neatly in her flesh, brown skin, I am watching
Only Night can eclipse
This dark lady, full, naked and green, turning in the water

Who is she, and what color is her hair, hidden under blue hoody
What is the truth in that shape and shade of lying eyes

They are just a pattern that moths use
To make them look like she is watching