Pirate Wind

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