They have no home
Other than the endless road
They know no life
Other than the restless journey
They have no friends
Other than the nomadic clan
They know no trade
Other than the merchants' way
Pre-dawn sees them strung out
Across the urban desert
Gathering disparate goods
For use and barter and sale
Blending effortlessly into their surroundings
Their passing goes unnoticed
Except by alert street guards
Who bark their respectful acknowledgement
These are the masters of survival
Living off the land
These are the teachers of solidarity
Sticking by their kin
These are the genii of commerce
Finding value in everything
These are the scholars of philosophy
Knowing life's worth
Oh, caravan of hope
May you discover oases
On your parched trail
May you reap rich rewards
From your creative enterprise
And may you one day lay aside
Your weary trolley load
And wonder no more
About the life of the unwanted
Wanderer
— Wayne Visser