New Leaves are out and so are the thorns,
they festered all winter, entering spring,
with new resolve and a pain to bring,
right through the side of the shoe worn,

on a foot that is not tender, or sure,
in a foot that has tread more miles,
a shout, a grimace, no more smiles,
Old legs dropped out, falling a blur.

The game of thorns, a new season.
Stay tuned, for there are more, thorns.