Unholy Sonnet 13

Drunk on the Umbrian hills at dusk and drunk 
On one pink cloud that stood beside the moon, 
Drunk on the moon, a marble smile, and drunk, 
Two young Americans, on one another, 
Far from home and wanting this forever—
Who needed God? We had our bodies, bread, 
And glasses of a raw, green, local wine,
And watched our Godless perfect darkness breed 
Enormous softly burning ancient stars.
Who needed God? And why do I ask now? 
Because I’m older and I think God stirs
In details that keep bringing back that time, 
Details that are just as vivid now—
Our bodies, bread, a sharp Umbrian wine.