Analysis of Wandering

In tuneful rhetoric
as I watch the
changing wind
I speak to the north,
east, south and west
and follow the path
the direction leads
me
over the scarlet,
crimson mountains,
the burnt orange
poses and the sun
glaring stirs that
wallow in the breeze

The summer ends
flatly
we stretched it
out forever and
ever until it
finally stopped
and the seasons
grace us poetically
with glows of
sunsets and luminous
leaves and hurricanes
raining and pushing
until we turn our
case over once
more to the
whistling wind
and the full moons
that bewitch us
into uncertainty