Strawberry Bandits

The furry band of thieves crawl in the night,
wielding Zorro masks and sly grins,
soundless in single file,
under fences and through prickly bushes,
the little ones straggling in back,
they come upon their spoils,
ripe and red for the taking,
juices flow down their chins,
a light has flooded the crime,
their last bites taken,
fleeing satisfied.