Mirage

It was as if the sky had exploded at our feet
In a bizarre puff of blue smoky haze
Filling our lungs
Causing our chests to cave
Burning eyes—
Is this what the new year is supposed to feel like?
The taste of ash on our tongues
A bitter, blandness—
Is this what the new year is supposed to taste like?
Stepping one foot out of the fog—
Is this the new year?