The Time Is Yama Poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

A grandmother and her teenage daughter
Had been in my observation for sometimes.
The girl was in bloom like a green shoot.
The lady was with wrinkles like a dry bark.
I mused with pity for the lady
And valued with merit for the girl.
Once the lady must have been a green shoot.
One day, the girl would be a dry bark.
The time is the cruelest Yama, ha.
01.04.2007
[Yama is the god of death in the Hindu mythology}