Two days ago, I shared an excerpt from one of my longer poems here. 

I received an email from a reader suggesting I share more parts of the “wonderful” poem. 

First of all, I publicly thank the gentleman and wish I could receive such letters more often. 

I can't ignore someone who is reading me in a world where readership is rapidly declining.

So here is the second part out of the seven. 

Keep reading. 

II

Those days 

When we moved 

With tremendous emotional intensity

With inner turmoil and revelations

With a lack of pretension

Those days 

When we were losing and regaining heart

Almost every other day

Those days 

When we kept our hearts in our palms

Ready to hand over any damsel we met

Those younger days when we were Communists

On one or another pretext, searching dead-end roads  

With no regard for the consequences

Yet confused with a regrettable conscience

When ‘socialism with a human face’ was shattered 

By the Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968

Those days with magical vibrations

When we listened to people, 

But hardly heard what they were saying

(From my poetry collection, “Always in Transit”)