On My Desk

[busker]

On My Desk
 
There is a single hand
rendered in greys shadowed
to cool aubergine; fingers
lithe, but not without aquiline
intention poised above the keys.
 
Is it Rachmaninoff or a Bach
fugue in minor C
with hopes of a happy third,
 
or simply a pause amidst
the drizzle of the snare,
rainy day jazz,
angry with the saxophone
leaving me longing
for the D minor on the down beat?
 
Each day the hand plays
against a backbeat of silence.

I take this to be a picture of a hand, and not a stand in for someone typing angry emails at his keyboard, as the backbeat of silence wouldn’t make sense there
Which then begs the question of which painting, which hand. Is there a cultural reference I’m missing?