out of sight

your mother would
stand at the door
as you'd leave.
watching you get into
the car, making
the u turn
out of the driveway,
she'd blink
the porch light
and wave, never
closing the door
until you were
down the road, out
of sight.
now she watches you
from the couch
in the nursing home,
with tears in her
eyes, waving,
with your gift cookies
in her lap,
watching again,
until you are out
the door, out
of sight.