We agreed
that we would walk
as far as the row
of purple cabbages grew,
then turn back.
But the purple cabbages
heard us saying this,
took it as a challenge,
and began erupting
out of the dirt
spontaneously,
lengthening their row
into the far distance
until we couldn’t
see the ending…
No, they didn’t—
I just wanted them to
because this
was our final walk
because you
had reached
that inevitable
point in one’s life
when one simply must
move to Seattle
and I
was just
a little diplomat
from another dimension,
bound by the terms
of the deal
I had struck
at the gates
of perception
to stay here,
in Western
Massachusetts,
for at least six
thousand more years.