MUSIC AT SULLEN LATE DAY

A poem of character study in comparison to musical instruments

A sense of passion plays me -
Strung-out whinning
Violin that I am and haunting
Like distant slow and disturbing
Oboe - low and dying -
The tinkling stepping ivory
Dances and teasing
And flatters me lively
Like the fluttering flute
That I am - then pausing
To the clouded gray cooling
Autumn - most assuring -
And fit quite well assuming
A sullen match with music -