the deceitful Masked Bandit
Out on the land in a time now long gone
animals spoke not with talons, but tongues;
civil in nature and patient to boot,
reached their apogee, having taken root.
Trickier mammals would baffle them all.
They weren't immune to answering the call:
pranking and stealing, malevolent stuff.
Yowling and prowling and giving a cuff.
The raccoon sported a mask on her face,
Shielding identity, a saving grace.
Ever self-righteous as she claimed no part
of recking sheer havoc. She played it smart.
She just didn't see how clear her deeds were.
No one was fooled by her mood lackluster.
The fish that she took and the food she stole:
blood on her hands, not metaphorical.
Fie! From that time, the old habits die hard.
You see her slink still, all about the yard,
with hands, so dainty, so blood-stained and streaked.
That's WHY she washes her food in the creek!