Wanting to See that Way

Suddenly, there is a blur in front of my face. I try to see it and I do not see anything-there it is again. I see a flash of green and scarlet and realize that there is a hummingbird hovering over my head. It rockets, hovers, bounces, and dodges unknown particles only it sees, and now it is less than a yard away looking directly at me. It dives into one of the moonflowers and in a split second has zoomed up into the sky without a trace. I wonder if they are illegal in Arizona, too. I can see me-the flower seed rebel wearing a bright cannabis leaf green, purple, burgundy, spiral pattern tie dye t-shirt, riding on a giant hummingbird set up with saddle bags filled with morning glory and moonflower seeds. Everywhere we go we spread color-from the moment of our blurry arrival to months later, when all those illegal vines sprout, leaving color on the ground in the wake of our flight path. I exhale again watching the smoke vanish into the sky where the hummingbird has gone to contemplate our future together.