The Sunday Poem: Roy Ricci...Coyote Calls His Brothers




                            Sometimes you drive through midnight

                                   into the endless dark star of Amarillo,

                                 through Tulsa, Springfield,

                                 and the swift sunrise of St. Louis.


                            Sometimes you drive through the Midwest

                                fog of November - St.Paul, Madison,

                                and into the dead deer hills of Hallstead.  

                                The ladies of Wellesley lurk in ambush.


                            Within the white god clouds of Goshen                    

                                angels spread the intricate mist of their wings,

                                 and sometimes you circle around snowstorms,

                                 waiting to bring your brothers home.


                              Roy Ricci


Roy Ricci, soon to retire from UNM Biology and move into another era of Poetry & photography."Lately Photography has ruled both my time and senses,but looking forward to reach that nirvana of Poetry time. With the mentorship of Larry I self-published my first book of poems and eventually assisted others through the publishing process. 

"The poem 'Coyote Calls His Brothers' is reality based, actually driving from Albuquerque at midnight after an emergency call from back East."

Roy Ricci Photograph: Nude With Mask

Do tell your friends to look for poetry here every Sunday and link to the poem when you can. Poetry submissions are welcome, in fact needed or the dead poets, as worthy as they are, will take over this page. Email

Larry Goodell

Views: 1045

Comment by Margaret Randall on October 13, 2013 at 8:56am

Moving poem, well made and leaving the reader wanting more. I'm glad Ricci is moving into more poetry in the next chapter of his life. The photograph reminds me of an updated Imogene Cunningham!

Comment by Dee Cohen on October 13, 2013 at 2:48pm

There is a lovely movement in this poem- a pushing forward through cities,real and imagined. The call of family can be other worldly. Best of luck on your creative pursuits. Dee

Comment by larry goodell on October 14, 2013 at 7:20pm

Roy writes me that the ferris wheel is the London Eye on the South Bank of the River Thames.


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