A request of human alarm

   Watching as the birds chase in midair. Twirling
in the overcast sky. Just playing, flying and
enjoying the bare trees.

   Calming I sit waiting to wake my mother up. Day all
gone because of her simple request. Dare I be rude
and say no, of course not. Find another way to
do chores.

   One day that was going to be eventful, Jehovah
shows me to slow down. Not to be in a hurry to
shove off.

   Small breaths are opening as I step outside just
to escape the confines of a smoky room. My
mother's relaxer, a orange hued cigarette.

   The quake, the need to get out. Clean the lungs
of the putrid air. Thanking Jehovah for
pressing my nose higher into the air.

    One step at a time. My feet casually meander
down to the car. Carrying me to a busy, hectic
world for only a hour or so.

   Terrible I feel that I always feel as though I am
sprinting to get away from her, for the reason of
the stench that tar brings, lingers. No longer
are her senses on top.

   I am thankful that my car allows freedom,
allows an airflow. Grateful for a moment of solitude
in freshness. Am I a horrible daughter for so
desiring to see her quit? Just to see the attempt to
be healthy once more?

  Oh her request of an alarm, I am but first
a breath of fresh air.