Poem: School by the Fields

[Image Description: A painting of a field of white flowers with a building and trees in the distance]

Art by CJ Calanday

Poem by Jackie Huang

School by the Fields

I pass by brick buildings,

next to fields.

Where daisies grow,

for schoolboys.

They bring home notes,

letters and words.

Lead shards

smudged on shirts.

The scent of old paper was my favorite.

Chairs marked lines

Arms rested on tables

Wooden shelves,

where schoolbooks lived.

I had tables and chairs too,

for eating,

not learning.


To show me the right steps for

soup and bread.

My father says we are filled

With unique fortune.


Paves our path.

But I say my heart beats hollow,


Under this roof,

Is the only horizon I have.

“Your mind is no thinker,

hands not fit for a writer.”

But even behind these calluses,

Aren’t my hands the same?

Come save me,

my knight in shining armor.

Save me from endless hours.

Give me wings,

Fly me off to their land.

And plummet into its sea

Of shining stories.

Let world blink its eyes,

turn it around.

To where the morning bell

rings for my ears too.

I pass by brick buildings,

next to fields.

Dreaming that one day,

daisies will grow,

for schoolboys,


school girls.

Jackie Huang is a 15 year old writer, singer, and avid theater actress. She was born and raised in Beijing, China, and is currently studying in New York. She particularly enjoys poetry and aims to use simple words to reflect issues in society. As a young writer, Jackie is still on the path to search for new experiences and opportunities. In her free time, she loves either spending time outdoors or locked in her room all day reading and watching Youtube, depends on her mood.