Circular poem in response to the secret keeper’s poetry challenge to write a poem using these five words:
| SHARP | RED | BREAK | PEN | CLOSE |
Red dawn breaks, sharp as knives,
Lives shift and stir, some close, in tepid beds,
Reds and pinks paint the sky,
High, too high, to touch with mortal hand.
Stand and watch the tearing of the night,
Slight breath of a breeze drifts,
Sifts the dark fragments, sorts the words.
Birds break loose from their pen,
Again they soar, this time free as air,
Where a thousand generations of ancestors have led,
Red dawn breaks sharp as knives.