At night we sealed the light in, to be safe.

There was music, and the sewing machine whirred.

We played on the rug with a painted wooden car,

Like the one Daddy used to drive, when there was petrol.

Now every night the warden was on his bike,

In the pitch-black streets, checking the dark houses

In case the careless light was spilling out.

The rain on his r...

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