TEN miles down Reedy River A pool of water lies, And all the year it mirrors. The changes in the skies, And in that pool’s broad bosom. Is room for all the stars. Henry Lawson.

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Goodbye and now for you
your own drunkenness and
all-night carousel, your
fish Paris and Rome and Memphis.
Go whirl around in the river, outlines of
Indian paintbrush wavering over you in the darkness,
and the lights of the city, far off,
promising you everything,
lights effervescing
like a pirate’s flying saucer

 

Stefene’s poem:

 

Las Vegas Dace
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