“She told me that when she was a child growing up on a farm in rural Virginia, she would be out working in the fields when she would sometimes hear a poem coming toward her — hear it rushing across the landscape at her, like a galloping horse. Whenever this happened, she knew exactly what she had to do next: She would 'run like hell' toward the house, trying to stay ahead of the poem, hoping to get to a piece of paper and a pencil fast enough to catch it.”