I was making out a list of things I am grateful for which includes many things but I will list a few:
   Family
   Good friends
   Friends here on Hello Poetry
It made me think that one person on Hello Poetry deserves my Thank You and the Thank You of all of us here on Hello Poetry, the founder Eliot York who faithfully maintains this site that we all utilize. We might not always think about expressing gratitude for this site that we enjoy so much. There is no time like the present to do so.
Here's a Shout out to Eliot York who is responsible for all of us having this Great site to use to share our poetry!
With sincere, Gratitude this Shout out of Thanks goes to You!

A scowling scare crow,
Weather beaten one, bleached clean.
Stoops down as if it's scared.

These are not
petals unfolding
and I am not light
but a daydream
drifting

These are not
lips savoring
and I am not night
but the darkness
awakening

These are
reddened skies
and I am but the dawn
a woman
breaking

River river,
Sway way
Effortlessly elegant,
From far away,
What do you seek
To see a new day?
Keep on moving
Even when the sky is grey
I envy you river,
So cool and calm
Unlike my heart,
For it can't move on
What is left once he is gone

If it be my dying day
let it be the pen
not the sword
that cuts through my heart
tears through my soul
and closes every door of pain
that I have left open,
If it be the bullet that enters my brain
let it exterminate every bit of sorrow I've dragged around in existence
and turn it to dust,
if it be Zeus's sick sense of humor to spite me with a lightning bolt
the ******* better do it with pleasure,
if it be a train that falls from the sky
and smashes me to pieces
It better smash everything but my wallet.
It'd be hard to ID me.  -Shane Book

Busy Bluebird work songs , perched atop rustic farm bells
Maternal Thrashers and boisterous Cardinals thriving in sunlit dales
Forest of Da Vinci-esque brushstroke and Mozart timbre , living miracles pulled to Earths paternal floor , Red headed Woodpeckers tapping
on 'Heavens door'
May zephyrs spin wildflower mosaics , refreshed in the Water Oak catharsis , nurtured within her cooled forgiveness , lost in Mourning Dove musical
serenity* ....