Orchards were an Eden
just beyond the end of our lane –
a temptation for boys with scuffed knees
and memories of last year’s crop
as a daredevil scurry over railings
and a clandestine feast.
Come autumn, pickers turned a blind eye
to our impertinent raids:
what were a few scrumped apples to them?
Fruit trees are generous. Had we known it,
apples are gifts to be offered over fences.