It was not the wave from the door, but,
when she’d turned out of the gate, looking back,
mother was still there with a second wave,
that, like an exchange of vows, was love
declared, over and over, with the simplest gesture.
Great milestones of her life started there;
her ever-growing steps towards independence,
all blessed with that wave, a warm pullover of love
to wear wherever the steps were going; and knowing too
that those achievements were always tinged with sadness.
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