The poem reads like a handful of overheard phrases, and its meaning comes from how they sit side by side. It opens with waiting: we hear nothing until "matters settle," and what we eventually hear about is money, a "vast trade" carried out at "dear rates." The tone is dry and a little wary, as if the speaker distrusts whatever is being traded.
Then the poem turns to an audience, "full of weak hands / and seahorse teeth." Both images suggest something delicate or useless, people who watch but can't grip or bite. Seahorse teeth don't really exist, which makes the line feel strange and slightly mocking.
The last lines bring a softer note. "Love for the high ground" could mean a taste for safety or status, and the world as "great taffeta" is a surface that is fine, rustling, and maybe hollow. The mood is ironic and dreamlike, a quiet suspicion that glamour and commerce cover something thin. The title, "Tools," invites us to ask what is being used, and by whom.