Strike

The powercuts of 70's Britain

I remember walking home when the lights went out,

lamp after lamp dying in sequence

like candles on a street shaped birthday cake.

Giggling as I ran from one to the other

desperate to enter each circle of yellow

before it too was extinguished.

And the ghostliness of the shadows

behind curtains, flickering in the glow

of hastily lit candles.

I remember as we climbed the staircase to bed

peering out of the window at the inky blackness

and wondering :

If God were part of the Union

would He also work to rule?

And if He did

would we dance desperately

from one pool of holy light to another

whilst the stars turned out

silver light by precious silver light ?

Reviews

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~ am happy to bump into this beautiful piece again... it's a very charming piece of writing about life in a difficult situation made beautiful by a child's innocence...
~ i love the expression "circle of yellow"... and i am hopelessly in love with that last line... :)