Scrumping Arundel
Tangling over tunnel walls
His call still rings over the gate
Next door to the castle
Clinching with rage
Across the chiffon like mist
Skating across the ground
Spiked with a half asleep stubble
With his braces barely on
Rubbing the essence of sleep
From his eyes in shock
‘Oi’ He shouted out
blanch white in shock
stumbling through the trees
skipping heartbeats
in a glib eyed silence
stalled across the orchard
with at least ten different crimes
in each of our pockets
before you eventually shouted
‘Oh fuck, run’
Snaking through memories
Curved in regret
We both said we didn’t realise
It was a private orchard
Let alone had a gamekeeper
Leaping over plaited gates
Escaping across the bridge
On the other side of the orchard
Until his swearing
Eventually faded into the distance
Disembodied into a sanctum
Over the edge of a nearby quay,
Our apples laid out a trial out for us
Even if it was a accident
Barely into our teens
Pulling us into adulthood
Like a accidental travelogue
Roaming in future tenses
Distilled in changes over time
Across
adventures almost out of reach.
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