Late November Seal

The wind finds the gaps where the molding is loose,

a cold, steady finger that offers no truce.

I bought a new tube of the white silicone

to quiet the house and its shivering bone.

It’s sticky and thick on the tip of my hand,

a bead of the chemical, bright and un-planned.

I smooth out the line where the draft used to creep,

filling the gaps that the floorboards should keep.