Let's Talk Books With Robin Van Auken

I tried to imagine an early morning drive with poet Marjorie Maddox, whose creative suitcase is crammed with metaphors. I was enveloped in fog, which occluded my vision, on this particular day. My surroundings became the murky sea, and my auto a submarine. The tall, stark silver maples along the roadway became the kelp forests off the coast of California, and the 18-wheeler entering the road from the left became a large, gray whale, which I followed into a labyrinth of coral reefs (the city) teeming with colorful fish (cars) darting back and forth. The entire morning after our chat was spent in a dreamy, soft-focused world of poetry, and it felt good. I felt like I had a special pair of glasses that transformed the world around me, and I couldn't stop jotting down ideas. Last night, I browsed the stacks at a bookstore in Virginia while visiting family, and immediately was drawn to the poetry section. I looked at names on spines and wondered, "Who are these people? How do I know if I'll enjoy them?" I chic