Tugs Poem by RAJ VIKRAM

Tugs devoid of tensility
tugs susceptible to easy rupture,
those are the moments
in life, the collective of them.

It's a task to hang on one,
then to move on to the next,
oblivion beckoning beneath,
but looking prohibitive.

Blending the bland,
bundling the woes of
the unyielding yore
as baggage of the now.

Hanging on as the tug
stretches threatening to
snap and consign me as
the unbeknownst.

Chugging on with a sigh
as I catch hold of the next
tug, the precarious tug.
Tugging me to moment, to life.