The Smoke

It was one morning in July
I took a step out from my home to go to work  
I smelled the smoke when I stepped out
I even taste it like something from an old campfire
I look up at the sky and see the haze
it’s a thick, dense white-like air
even with my mask on, breathing was difficult
it all seemed like a dream-like state
only to know that it was a nightmare
we were on fire
yet we had carried on.