Cold Cobalt Day
I bought a small anthology of poetry called The Hell with Love: poems to mend a broken heart, edited by Mary D. Esselman and Elizabeth Ash Velez, when I did indeed have a broken heart. Now, many years later, my heart mended, I still enjoy reading the many gems in it. (By the way, poetry cannot mend a broken heart. Only time can mend it, and even time may be powerless to do it. The fault is not poetry's; the heart is to blame.)
However, back to the splendid anthology of which I have been speaking, for it contains poems such as this one.
Oh, When I Was in Love with You
Oh, when I was in love with you,
Then I was clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well I did behave.
And now the fancy passes by,
And nothing will remain,
And miles around they’ll say that I
Am quite myself again.
A. E. Houseman
For some reason, which I cannot discern, the anthology and poem seem perfect for this cold cobalt day.