Until the days of the Spring

Part Three : Red Beanie

First Friday of Winter
Birds stopped singing
The long night took them
I was looking at him
His jet black hair hidden by a red beanie
His manly hands were not covered by gloves
We were standing in a small store
Wondering if it will be the same next year
Or if we will choose a different path
But if somehow you read this,
Know well that I'm all yours.