Poetry by Hilary Stanton
In my teacup I hear
rain—rush on the roof,
rumble of approaching jungle storm
slapping shiny leaves, broad
sides to the sun still shining.
Hammock hung under
a tin roof, open
to wind introducing
coming clouds.
The light drops,
deafening water
rattles, hammers corrugated metal.
I sip my tea.
The pitch in the cup drops,
the drops hang shining.
Hilary Stanton lives in the Boston area with her husband and their three homeschooled kids. She enjoys hiking and designing original creations using yarn, fabric, or words. Her work has been published in Cobalt Review and Light; she is currently working on a novel.
