the goose in the window

it's a good day for a steaming

hot bowl

of porridge.

whatever that is.

it's a Charles dickens kind

of day.

grey.

snowy.

with chimneys full

of smoke,

icicles hanging from

the gutters,

where's my long coat

with deep pockets,

where are the rags i use

for gloves?

i need to get

to the market

to buy a goose hanging

in the butcher's window.