Improv-ing -- Week 8

I'm going to try to improv Beginnings by James Wright

Coddled by the heat rising my shirt.
Yellow skin teased by the heat rising from
cindered sand.
I watch
Juice dripping from baskets of shriveled fruit
Cowering from sleeves of the sun’s limbs.
The old man sitting an old wine barrel
pokes the strings of his Lute
Forged from petrified wood
Held together and gristly goat hair and torrid cattle skin.
Destitute fingers longing to be coin quenched.