Critics
At a misty lake
Twelve critics asked
Old William Blake,
What is poetry?
As evening descended
The poet produced a ginger
And pointed to the moon
But they saw only
His finger.
Then an optimistic man
Recited Walt Whitman
To his sole companion
A young stallion.
And the keen
Sentient horse
Heard more
Than the prose.
poem by Paul Hartal
Added by Poetry Lover
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