Casey Mills

Greetings

saints and their holy brethren

traipse around this town

loaded with loaves of bread and chocolate

their eyes the shining eyes of saviors

sunshine prisms through water

joyfully kicked up in puddles at their feet

the street is glad, buildings swoon

orange poppies dance in vacant lots

their hearts arrive before them

opening doors, spreading into the hard places

hospital rooms, prison cells, shelters full of metal beds

suddenly pillows are soft, the bread is buttered

windows open and the miracle of the Lord

blows in and greets the lost and broken

with the sweet fresh air

of this impossible world

Digging 

bubbles on the beach show

where the crabs hide

her cupped hands move madly through sand

to reveal them sideways

legs waving through air for purchase

my daughter commits herself

to this task

with the relentless focus

of one who knows

a searing truth

the moment of discovery

is a deep well of holiness

no matter how many times she digs

we never know which handful will uncover

the gleaming pink shell of creation

Casey Mills writes poems early in the morning while his kids sleep and the birds wake. He lives in Northern California by a creek he spends a lot of time with. His poetry has been published in Heart of Flesh, Amethyst Review, Ekstasis, and Solid Food Press.