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I Would Read

Posted by MFish • Profile • 04/20/23 at 08:47AM • History • See more by MFish

I would read novels,
tales of western yore,
about Billy the Kid,
the Dalton Gang, and more.

The early days, in the West,
travelling before rail,
when covered wagons,
used the Oregon Trail.

Imagine the adventure,
as you travelled along,
miles after miles,
toward your new home.

I remember some stories,
told when on their way.
He wrote many novels,
about the West, Zane Grey

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NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day:

On some nights the sky is the best show in town. On this night, auroras ruled the sky, and the geomagnetic storm that created this colorful sky show originated from an increasingly active Sun. Surprisingly, since the approaching solar CME the day before had missed the Earth, it was not expected that this storm would create auroras. In the foreground, two happily surprised aurora hunters contemplate the amazing and rapidly changing sky. Regardless of forecasts, though, auroras were reported in the night skies of Earth not only in the far north, but as far south as New Mexico, USA. As captured in a wide-angle image above Saariselkä in northern Finnish Lapland, a bright aurora was visible with an unusually high degree of detail, range of colors, and breadth across the sky. The vivid yellow, green, red and purple auroral colors are caused by oxygen and nitrogen atoms high in Earth's atmosphere reacting to incoming electrons. Open Science: Browse 3,000+ codes in the Astrophysics Source Code Library

Photo by Juan Carlos Casado

I Seek Not

Posted by MFish • Profile • 04/19/23 at 09:24AM • Life Stories - Memories • See more by MFish

I seek not,
was said to me.
Why are you here,
knowing you cannot see?

Do you understand?
I'd like to know,
what you are seeing,
isn't a travelling show.

You're seeing life,
in reality time,
no rose covered glasses,
just life, so sublime.

Was it hard for you,
to even understand,
your journey through life,
as a lonely, old, man?

Through the Eyes

Posted by MFish • Profile • 04/19/23 at 09:23AM • Poetry • See more by MFish

Through the eyes
of the beholder,
her beauty came through.
She has skin like satin,
to name just a few.

Her lips the color of
the reddest rose,
the eyes were, as if,
made of coal.

When she smiled, her teeth,
white as new snow.
She was short, but was
proportioned, just so.

You would never leave her,
for there's no place to go.

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