John Canaday Poems

Amman sprawls, sun-struck, on seven
hills, like a latter-day Rome, only
less so. It was, in fact, once Roman,
as the ruined theater downtown attests,
...

I am a stubborn ox dreaming
of rain as the drover's fingers drum
around my eyes. But no: the wet
hum of flies distracted me,
...

In early spring, here in the Rub 'al Khali,
Gabriel swings his goad over the humped backs
of swollen clouds. They roar like angry camels
and thunder toward the fields of the fellahin.
...