Thank you, Wyoming.
Thank you, cheddar-tone deserts studded with dusty-kiss sagebrush.
Thank you, mountain panorama like sleeping dragon silhouettes.
And thank you hearts of Riverton:

The leather-skinned, deep-river pioneer gentlemen toting cheerfully the weight of family's lives.
The velvet-voiced, apricot-and-oregano aura women rising and caring as mother mountain lions.
The softly-shimmering with young-love-summer-star girls, treading on pixie heels and toes to leave bright Venus-dust in the eyes of those behind.
And, of course, the chocolate-soy-milk, lupine chorus, ruby-ocean-sunspot breathing hippie boys whose penetrating gazes brought to life the mustardseed between my eyes.

Thank you for August sunsets, all raspberry-mango sorbet drizzled with merlot and whipped-cream-sea skies.
Thank you for the welcome weight of love-stroked quilts with background sizzle of scrambled eggs and salsa-chicken breakfasts, the squabble of discontented geese at night.
Thank you for the regenerating soul-crush of a silent prayer, the death-surpassing Dorothy-in-the-core-of-her-tornado adrenaline whirl tempered by the bleeding-thumbs solidity of granite and the tentative symbiotic mastership of mountain North Faces.
Thank you for the anasthetically seductive curls of dusky-blue incense butterfly kissing my irises while beat poets trippingly float their words, belly laughs and bright eyes.
Thank you for the ballet-race of light on a river chortling with white-garnished waves, the cathartic ice-hug of the Big Kahuna and the crispy twang of endorphine-pheremone sushi.
Thank you for the harmonic caress from a stranger's guitar, the honey-cherry snare-gleam and the soaring of two heat-encircled sticks, a kangaroo boxer bounce and a bassline like a pulse of tangerine smoothie through the xylem-phloem veins of the earth.
Thank you for the beauty of life and vibration which realigned the rainbow bridges of my being, for the tinted-tenor tones that seemed to halo all around the edges of the spaces in cells.
Thank you simply for the reminder of fun,
for carpe diem,
for dhyana, canta, cho-ha,
And for God is love.
I will carry you like whispers in my pocket, every one, to lend that lighted river so vital to love and life.
You're in me, where I keep you.
Welcome to Minnesota.