FRIGID-AIRE

 Glacial white ice-box

Clinically humming your cynical tune

Cat-purring smooth on the outside

Insides as cold as an icy moon

 Your  stalactite smile frozen rigid

I never would believe you were frigid

            SEASONAL

           Time tolls the seasons

            And men grow old

            Chasing rainbows to the end.

            Death has neither rhyme nor reason

            But we all get there in the end