The Bandit
My bandit mask is on.
The dusk is now upon us.
Time to go exploring.
I scamper along the fence posts,
as my ringlet tail
dances to and fro.
I scurry up the backyard tree
when I spy the garbage can.
It makes me think of lunch.
I'm hopeful for something good to eat—
perhaps a greasy pizza crust
that’s only a day old.
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