Natania Rosenfeld, American poet
FAMILY WEATHER
Natania Rosenfeld
Sometimes father approves.
Sometimes mother cries.
Either way, the clouds
float toward the horizon.
Birds, too, are dependable,
if you lie on your back
and watch closely. They lift
from the tree in swaths,
calling out. So, years later,
when the beloved leaves
your afternoon bed, you hear
singing and see snow banks
and are never alone.