I found this very beautiful. I like how you set the scene as tranquil, slow-moving... but in the end, it is very clear that there is a dark undercurrent to these images. Death can be tranquil, and when such a contemplation occurs (such as at the end of this poem) amidst tranquility, it could highlight the horror of it somehow. Like a voice shushing us to comfort, but we know that the words are wrong? I also read it as death being commonplace: a clock, a pool, a tree, a suicide. The bit about the violins struck me as ill-fitting... but it wasn't terribly overdone. I like that they are civil, not despairing. You let some quiet despair seep in with the "soft, arthritic index finger." Very nice.

There are some things you might want to work on... perhaps refining your language to a stranger point, using a pinch more unusual diction.. but over all, it has a lovely tone. Did you mean to end with the comma? Interesting choice... As if there is another breath taken by the speaker -- but then, no more words come.

Thank you.