Caught

We used to climb an old tree
in our neighbor's yard,
stealing apples –
silent with adventure,
the chance of being caught.
And then one time we saw him
gazing out and smiling
through the curtained window.
It never was the same again.
We'd whisper
Let's go climb the old man's tree
and eat the apples.
And we'd give raucous show
of gleeful thievery
and leave
filled with a childish awe
to know
that's all he ever wanted.

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