Indecision

If deciding were something
You did, something that happened
To you, you would decide it

Or let it happen to you
Quickly, and live by windows
All the time, window-living

Becoming your thing, your point,
The fulcrum around which
Your life went on rotating,

You would love a window room
Laid out just so for you—love
To live between windows more

Or less forever, living
Simply, with no other life
You would ever have to be.