"...that is the question."

I'm turning into a hardened flirt; 

several hours of every day,

I'm dreaming of surrendering myself.

It's a great temptation.
But, in the meantime, I'm holding 

to the straight and narrow, 

by sharing twilight with a friend

as we talk over the week that's passed;

by delighting in a brass consort,

Venetian music

from four centuries ago.

I delight in feeling connected

to all those who have 

performed, listened to and loved

the same music

for every year of that four hundred.

Thus far, I'm remaining virtuous.

But, winter is coming,

with oppressively leaden skies;

I will be cabin-fevered,

so I'm not making any promises.