hampton square

honest the voice that speaks of gentle light
beyond the trees are merely other folk
like me like us they bend under the yoke
we are all caught in the same human plight
rules change when they are kept out of our sight
all of our hope turns into thinnest smoke
and we are not the ones who see the joke
revolving earth turns every day to night
old houses standing in foreign places
that once we saw as safety and as home
do those who live in them still remember
not only form and feature of our faces
but why we had to up our stakes and roam
from summer up to constant november