Lemonscent   The lane neglected in leaf and wrapper non-descript off the main save fruit-laden branches peering over grey board the old tree stopped me dead I detoured in pulling the nearest down snapping the stem others were higher than reach while looking for something to lift me I recalled civil law on harvesting fruit overhanging public lanes: property of owner still sour sunfaces and green-yellow leers can’t be resisted sliding a wheelie bin balancing shakily one hand on fence one arm stretching into thorny light I barely tickled the bottom rind of a fat one as the back gate…