Welcome and

 

We are an annually published literary and art review with a unique focus on aesthetics and writing of all sorts. Here we offer student writers, thinkers, and artists of Rocky Hill School a common platform for publishing their original work. Contribute to our ongoing dialogue about all facets of life, be they economic or existential. 

Please see the Contact Us page if you would like to purchase a copy of The Hill.

 

  - Musings
Letter from Sean Tinsley

A Letter from Sean Tinsley, English teacher at the Rocky Hill Upper School

Hidden Presences

Check it out! Our very own Head Copy Editor Jenna O'del ('16) has written a novel!

A big month for The Hill

We on The Hill’s upper management team are thrilled to announce the big month that The Hill had in January!

Imagination Default

6 min read

Hello Juniors. As you obviously know, we are all beginning the college process and deciding the future ahead of ourselves.

Creating Change

5 min read

Today, most states have laws that allow school boards to make dress code rules for students within their district. They try to promote a safe, disciplined school environment, prevent interference with schoolwork and discipline, and to encourage uniformity of students.

Poetry

Writing
Jealousy

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster...

Lies I've Told to Children

2 min read

 

-clouds are...

The Rush

1 min read


I stand,
and I stare.
Looking at the faces before me,

The Empress

4 min read

The empress is made of fairy-dust—
Bleeding pure gold.
Sleeping soundly in her ivy-woven tower.
Her young face masked with bright, blossoming flowers
Guarded by snow-white swans, swimming through—
A maze of lily pads.

Constant?

2 min read

A poem by Deirdra Irving

Writing
Halloween

6 min read

Running

Duck

2 min read

It is easy to be a duck,   To follow the nose of the heard without question,   To hope for the best while simply speculating,

Murder on the First Floor, Laughter on the Fifth

8 min read

A hooded man was walking down a street in the chilled fall air of a New England night. He was in one of those big cities, like Portland or Providence, a quiet city that lacked the commerce of Boston, or the energy of New York. Nevertheless, this man was walking toward an apartment building. It was a five-floor brick building owned by an independent company.

Icarus

5 min read

Icarus dreamed he knew of a better world.
He tried to escape,
And he did;
For a moment, just a moment,

Colors to a Blind Man

3 min read

I rest the walnut bowl of my lyre in a flowered hollow at the base of a tree and cast my eyes into the shadows of the forest and the waterfall, pinning down the sharper colors in my mind.