These towers

I can feel them pulling the breath out of me.

 It tickles and stings; the fickle crying.

They ask for it gently,

to advance inside body and mentally.

 My awareness conditioned,

 the spirit sees all.

 Like five lighthouse towers searching hour after hour.

Beaten by water and weather, and sat on by disease filled cold feathers.

They blink and sing "Time is the only endeavor".

 We think and we love, we serve then we sigh.

 We are all simply children until the day that we die.

 I can see your stare widen with peripheral eyes,

 like a cats piercing diamond gaze in the night.

 Years ago I saw this young fox eat many blue doves (Oh how I felt clever).

Written inside of its' feather were these jagged words that read.

We think and we love, we serve then we sigh, we are all simply children,

 until the day that we die.