Slow Moon's Rose - Slapp Happy

Now that the slow moons rose

On a silver trellis grows

Where arctic rivers froze

Now that the ocean is frozen in motion

Snow morning comes

And the birds on the wing

Have nothing left to sing

Blown in blue glass like a schooner held fast on the ice

Besides that river where I picked, the slow moons rose —

I watched the evening wither with a jewel at the end of my nose

Tell-tale snails leave their trails

Running from hunters' black blunderbuss under the sun