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Autumn Harvest
Craig W. Steele

Concord grape season
my son finds a sour sugar pod—
one less berry moth

Autumn's Revival
Craig W. Steele

autumnís revival—
greens turn orange, yellow, brown, red;
flowers drop their heads

Chilly Autumn Night
Craig W. Steele

chilly autumn night
rain drips silently from eaves—
brittle leaves chatter

Craig W. Steele is a writer and university biologist whose musings occur in the urban countryside of northwestern Pennsylvania. Besides Boston Literary Magazine, his haiku have appeared recently in A Hundred Gourds, Asahi Haikuist Network, Modern Haiku, Shamrock Haiku Journal, South by Southeast: A Journal of Haiku and Haiku Arts and elsewhere.

Lois Elaine Heckman

Orange moon casts flame
daggers between turning leaves:
the forest succumbs.

Lois Elaine Heckman grew up in Los Angeles, receiving a degree in Italian from UCLA. She now lives in Milan, Italy. Her works have been in previous issues of Boston Literary Magazine and appear, or are forthcoming, in Tilt-a-Whirl, Yale Journal for Humanities in Medicine, The Sonnet Scroll, Persimmon Tree and Prole, among others. In 2010, she won the New England Shakespeare Festival Rubber Ducky Sonnet Contest and placed in the 2012 Poetry on the Lake Competition, short poem category.

shoulders lift, head turns—
waterfalls of wonderment
spill from his wide eyes

TM Man was born in Boston MA. He works a blue collar job by day and writes by night. He loves to inundate Boston Literary Magazine Staff with persistent poetry submissions.

Kate Swinson

Wide eyes glassy blue.
Searching aisles, missing mama.
Should have held a hand.

Kate Swinson loves writing and hates spiders. She works mostly from her home office, which is just code for her bed. Kate will read anything she can get her hands on, and she can often be found rowing when she's not working the jobs that pay her bills. She has to write or her brain goes into overload, so she really appreciates people taking time to read her work.

Rose Kowaliw

Autumn leaves cascade
pungent pathways less traveled
hiking in the woods.

Rose Kowaliw

Singing from the heart
uninhibited passion
perfection, At Last.

Strong Coffee, No Tea
Rose Kowaliw

drug of robust aroma
nourishing mornings.

Rose Kowaliw

The touch of a wing
flutterings felt in the breeze
summer's last goodbye.

Rose Kowaliw

Last seasonís flowers
withering old rose gardens
beneath starry skies.

Rose Kowaliw

Rotating slower
lost milliseconds each year
time is running down.

Rose Kowaliw enjoys creating original computer art as well as painting in oils, both of which have been shown in galleries in NY and New England. Her Haiku and poetry have been published in a wide variety of literary publications. She lives in pristine New Hampshire with her family and spends summers at the ocean walking the beach at dawn searching for sea glass. "I am drawn to the sparse beauty of a Haiku like the tides are drawn to the moon."

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