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 rubber...

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