Improv 2, Week 8

My second improv for this week riffs Natasha Trethewey's "Graveyard Blues"

It rained the whole time we were laying her down;
Rained from church to grave when we put her down.
The suck of mud at our feet was a hollow sound.

When the preacher called out I held up my hand;
When he called for a witness I raised my hand-
Death stops the body's work, the soul's a journeyman.

The sun came out when I turned to walk away,
Glared down on me as I turned and walked away-
My back to my mother, leaving her where she lay.

The road going home was pocked with holes,
That home-going road's always full of holes;
Though we slow down, time's wheel still rolls.

I wander now among names of the dead:
My mother's name, stone pillow for my head.

What stood out to me most in this poem was the rhyme scheme. I like the way she ends the first and second lines of each stanza with the same word, only to end line three with a different word that has the same rhyme as the first two lines. I used this rhyme scheme setup as the foundation of my riff.

Cabin's Remedy

It snowed the whole time we fed her fever.
From kitchen to bedside, we souped her fever.
The piercing wind at the door was a creaky griever.

When the doctor came he felt her head;
his hand drenched in the sweat that drowned her head.
If she sunk in any further, she'd be dead.

The barrelling wind became a soft breeze.
We opened a window so she could feel the breeze.
My eyes closed in prayer, I heard her wheeze

as he snow blankted over the hill.
I once sledded with her on that hill.
My eyes turned to her and she nearly keeled

over. I knew she had to go home.
Our hose was no place for her to roam.