You’ve landed on lots of hilltops around here.
You accompany me on the paths and insist on sharing the view,
giving lie to the notion that I’m wandering here alone.
You arrived from other places.
“Not a native species,” they say,
“not good for the local ecosystem.”
You can show up in a flash,
light and quick on the hillside,
and disappear the next day.
My life seems slow by comparison.
I enjoy seeing you wave at me from the ridges,
your feathery flowers dancing in golden light
as they stretch toward the sun.
I can get used to sharing hilltops,
to sharing views that include your presence
in the kaleidoscope world around us,
and maybe even dance with you.
It’s better not to be alone.