Global Poetry Writing Month Day 2, and the prompt is to "write a poem that plays with voice. For example, you might try writing a stanza that recounts something in the first-person, followed by a stanza recounting the same incident in the second-person, followed by a stanza that treats the incident from a third-person point of view." I wrestled for awhile with this one as I had, as is all too often the case, no idea what to write about. And then I looked at my hands, flailing about on the keyboard, and got the following:
This Foolish Woman
I hold out my hands to show my scars,
so slender once,
my fingers now arthritic knobs
no ring shall pass with ease.
You tell me each moment we dally
another mark appears to brand me —
twisted by time.
If only they would behave,
these errant fingers,
their rough and ridge-lined nails.
This foolish woman thought she'd not grow old.