now two old ladies sit peacefully knitting

now two old ladies sit peacefully knitting,
 and their names are sometimes and always.


"i can't understand what life could have seen in him" stitch
-counting always severely remarks;and her sister(suppress-
ing a yawn)counters "o i don't know;death's rather attractive"
 --"attractive!why how can you say such a thing?when i think
of my poor dear husband"--"now don't be absurd:what i said was
'rather attractive',my dear;and you know very well that
never was very much more than attractive,never was


stunning"(a crash.    Both jump)"good
heavens!" always exclaims "what
was that?"--"well here comes your daughter"
soothes sometimes;at which


death's pretty young wife enters;wringing her hands,and wailing
"that terrible child!"--"what"(sometimes and always together
cry)"now?"--"my doll:my beautiful doll;the very
first doll you gave me,mother(when i could scarcely
walk)with the eyes that opened and shut(you remember:
don't you,auntie;we called her love)and i've treasured
her all these yeras, and today i went through a closet
looking for something;and opened a box,and there she 
lay:and when he saw her,he begged me to let him
hold her;just once:and i told him 'mankind,be careful;
she's terribly fragile:don't break her,or mother'll be angry' "


and then(except for
the clicking of needles)there was silence


e.e. cummings, taken from the Myths and Allegories section of his Selected Poems


A beautiful, sad, and whimsical look on what effect mankind has had on love. I won't say much, because I am a firm believer that each reader should take their own opinion from a poem. But for me, it is wonderfully thought provoking to hear cummings allude that mankind is the one that has ruined love; we so commonly see the opposite, especially in poetry.