Knapping flint
In Silicon Valley,
Our campfire—
A screen
Of coloured images.
We’ve done this before—
Hiding from storms
Drawing charcoal sketches
On a wall.
We shelter
In each other’s arms
And gasp when stars
Light the night,
Cringe when lighting
Maps the heights.
Our etchings comfort us,
Help us endure…
Ease the fright,
Brighten the night.