“The air is crisp.”

They always say that
when it’s gotten colder. 
It seems right sometimes
but then the question:
how so? Does it
shatter when
someone walks through it?
Small flakes of it like
smashed potato chips
littering the ground? 
If enough people
walk through crisp air
will it eventually be
too broken
to sustain life? 

It’s gotten colder.
The air is beginning
to shatter from all
these people marching
under orders, all those
marching against orders.
Some are struggling 
to breathe. Some have
already stopped.

People also say
that spring 
always follows winter,
but it’s hard to imagine 
hearing the approach of
any warming breeze 
over these sounds of 
choking and breaking,
the crackling
of shards of frozen air.

They say the air will 
get softer soon. They say
wait and see. They say
a lot of things.