Unholy Sonnet 13

Mark Jarman

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.