Once Upon a Summer Night

You tell me that to sit all night on a tree stump
is not a valid human condition,
that eyes were meant for writing code
and not for watching fireflies.

The wickedness of man is great in the earth,
and every intention of his heart is digital.

We’re both like Atlantis
when the thundering flood of night washes over us—
You at your desk;
I on my stump.
Can you swim?
I can.