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Stange Meadow Lark
Back in the woods is where the strange birds dance around
Larks is that the call them
Under a tree, over a hill, hidden behind a tree is where they all dance
Everywhere, a bird dances
Rambunctious, Boisterous, Rowdy
Only one bird doesn’t dance, it hides behind the tree
Never would it dare come out in the open
Dreading for this to end, the bird feels
Obdachlose
A moon lights up the night
Last of the dancing ceases
At last, the sun rises
Turkish Larks are a bit strange
Under certain circumstances
Remember they move like aksak dance
Kudos
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This is an ekphrastic poem