Tender feet, who hither sneak:
It is for you the floorboards creak.
Notice that the swollen wood
Is made to shift, but not made weak.

This summer swelter seals the drawers,
And dampness locks the bedroom door;
It keeps inside the sound of feet
Padding on the humid floor.

No cold fingernails can pry
The wood we warp each time we cry;
We, the doors of different shape,
Can open only once we dry.