Green Hills Literary Lantern



Drink This



Somewhere right now as you read this two people

are astonished to find themselves making love

more beautifully than either has done before


Somewhere the sunrise is invisible because smog coats the land

                  but a pilot flying above sings to himself

              watching the light-filled whiteness begin to disperse


Somewhere an old woman barely able to walk 

dreams of her young self running down a long hot road

longing for the place where she will find water


Children are being born, coming here to live with us


                      Somewhere right now someone

is being dazzled by sunlight

                  which illuminates the needles of a big pine

so brilliantly it seems the universe is about

                  to grant us all enlightenment

                                                                or blessedness            

 or something no one has yet imagined


Somewhere two people who have long hated each other

are speaking together in normal voices


Many old people, some young ones, some not yet born

            are leaving us, dying out of this life


Somewhere right now people are watching the sun as it slips

                                     over the burning golden edge of the world





Born in Chicago, and raised on a farm in northern Illinois, Kathleen Lentz lives in Arlington, Massachusetts with her husband and two cats.  She’s been writing poetry almost as long as she can remember, and sometimes writes fiction.  In an earlier era of life she took undergraduate courses in the Iowa Writers’ Workshop while studying Chinese literature and history, and the Chinese language, modern and classical. After a number of years she turned away from academia and went to medical school and became a psychiatrist. She earns her living through a private practice in Concord, Massachusetts, seeing children, adolescents and adults for therapy. She keeps herself more or less sane by writing whenever she gets a chance.