haiku no. 161

Outdoor coffeehouse—

rebellion songs play over

trivial chatter.

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 160

My heart is racing—

school pick-ups on bicycle—

no gas tank to fill.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 160, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 160, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

haiku no. 159

The toothless old man

struggles to find his balance

in the late summer.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 159, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 159, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

 

haiku no. 158

On a hilly street,

children ride their bicycles

in the amber light.

 ~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 157

On a dark highway,

I drive with the windows down—

moonlight on my hood.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 157, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 157, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

haiku no. 156

Creeping morning light—

katydids and crickets sing—

children whispering.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 156, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 156, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

haiku no. 155

Late August moonlight

illuminates the rooftops—

katydids rejoice.

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 154

Sweltering August—

the prisoners peek through slits—

lovers flash their breasts.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 154, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 154, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

haiku no. 153

Woman on horseback—

beneath the cottonwood tree—

the tourists arrive.

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 152

Late August morning:

I walk my daughter to school—

too early to talk.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 152, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

no. 152, Guillermo Delgado, 2012

 

 

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