They rumbled across the piazza
Like sluggish, covered wagons, jarring on wild Nebraska plains,
Shut and chained together, slave-like,
Hauled by haggard marketeers;
Not here laggard mounts
Dragging pioneers through cactus-strewn trails,
Suffering sickness and unexpected weathers,
Watched by furtive warlike tribes, smeared in feathers:
But there was no protective circling of wagons in Florence,
For although furtive, alike tourists watched the trains
Clatter over stinking, sunken, steaming drains,
There was no intrusion, merely a fascinated audience...
Market stalls, chained together, were pulled across the flagstones of the Piazza della Signoria late each evening by their slow moving owners, reminiscent of American West pioneers searching, searching...