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Pirate Wind

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The autumn wind’s a pirate,
Blustering in from sea;
With a rollicking song, he sweeps along,
Swaggering boist’rously.

His skin is weather-beaten;
He wears a yellow sash,
With a handkerchief red about his head.
And a bristling black mustache.

He laughs as he storms the country,
A loud laugh and bold;
And the trees all quake and shiver and shake,
As he robs them of their gold.

Mary Jane Carr

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