Which Switch? Poem by Ima Ryma

The funeral service was done.
As the widow walked to the car,
She paused to ask the mortician
A favor, just a bit bizarre.
Could her deceased husband be changed
From brown into a suit of blue?
He told her it would be arranged,
Before the burial went through.
The mortician grabbed Ralph, his aide,
'Quick, switch the brown suit on this gent'
'With the male corpse in the blue suede, '
Later, Ralph was asked how it went.

'There was no time to switch the threads, '
'And so instead I switched the heads.'