The Ice Cream

Him and I had two cones of freshly shaved Ice Cream.
The Park was the perfect setting, where we giggled with the cones in our hands.
The street lights across the park had its own beauty to deepen our moment.
Our little world of happiness had no artificial colors and flavors,
But unadulterated Joy.
He struggled to finish his own cone of ice,
There I came to take his and made it my own.
The Ice Cream night became the point of reference for us, to survive the cold weathers of life.
The Ice Cream night is fondly and dearly remembered.

~W

- •W