that is, decidedly motivated
to not be motivated,
or to be without motive.
The curtains and window latches before me
are also caught up in this weird paradox.
Together, we have formed
our own little fraternity of inaction.
On any other day,
the Cabbage Tree outside
might have been welcome
to join us at this drab
but this morning
it has the easterly on its side.
Observing its leaves
bouncing up and down,
I’m reminded of a concert pianist’s fingers
and experience that same kind of envy
for the enthusiasm they embody,
as well as the years of dedicated practice
which they exhibit.
Say the curtains and window latches,
– The tree can’t be part of the club.
And you, with this writing lark,
well, let’s just say,
you’re pushing the envelope, mate.