no. 341

February ends—

fixie rider keeps balance;

I long for the road.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 341, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 341, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

haiku no. 340

Snow turns into slush—

teen girls occupy cafe;

I don’t miss my youth.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 340, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 340, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

 

haiku no. 339

Late February—

wrapped in a pincushion sky;

I breathe its damp air.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 339, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 339, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

haiku no. 338

The wet and green fields—

overrun by pale-skinned girls

in the golden light.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 338, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 338, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 337

Small town-Michigan:

Sunday morning coffee talk

on snow covered square.

~Guillermo Delgado
no. 337, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

no. 337, Guillermo Delgado, 2013

haiku no. 335

Car buried in snow–

espresso a mile away,

4 wheel drive… Oh yeah!

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 334

Trusty old Subie—

equipped with new brakes and tires,

snaps at winter’s growl.

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 333

My stomach in knots,

winter storm colored knuckles…

Death in the mirror.

~Guillermo Delgado

no. 332

The middle school boys

just want to draw skulls and death,

I’m too old for this.

~Guillermo Delgado

haiku no. 331

Endless rows of cars—

invisible folks clean them,

consumers in awe.

 ~Guillermo Delgado

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