By Richard Bernstein

I can tell you exactly when my relationship with poetry began, but I don’t presume to know exactly why. It was the afternoon of March 12, 1965. My grandmother had just given me a small yellow book entitled 100 Greatest Poems for my 8th birthday. I remember that it began with Chaucer and ended with Dylan Thomas. I read that book over and over until my 9th birthday, at which time she gave me a second book of poems. This birthday ritual continued until I graduated from college. All I know is that from the moment I received that first book I was hooked. I have been reading, writing, studying, or teaching poetry almost every day since.