First Edit: Cold Concrete Steps

[busker]

Hello Richard - I liked it that the poem was simple and brief. Some observations below:

Cracks from familiar feet
worsen with every step,    .... I think something more concrete, pardon the pun, instead of the abstract “worsen” might be more suitable 
but go unnoticed each day.

Snow settles in corners, crevices,
pushed there by a wind
that used to give comfort.   ....not sure who the comfort was being given to. I’d assume not the corners and crevices, in which case this observation on what the wind used to do detracts from the unity of the poem

Somehow even grey fades,
yet still solid against ungrateful
backsides, who'll curse the ice. ....I didn’t understand this strophe. Is the “grey” a defence to some form of ice?

No one listens to that language
of chipped surfaces; deterioration
too easily left behind.     ..... the conclusion is nice and consistent with the preceding content, but because there’s not a lot of hearing and listening going on previously (except I imagine the howling of the wind), the “language” of chipped surfaces is a weak metaphor.