First Snow

First Snow

Snow from a dark sky
upon the leaves
as their colors rot
upon unraked grass

There's no exit
until the sun's melt
starts on the porch
salted and sanded

An old movie meets
a popcorn afternoon
when butter drips
from a gray beard

Even the vampires
want a handy toothpick
as gray hands reach
to stain this sofa red

Lines drawn upon carpet
stop approaching zombies
Popcorn ball brains will
form from the next batch


Barry G. Wick