Two Poems From The Middle Kingdom: Eco Poetry Contest Winner Barbara Crooker TU WI’S PICKS A DANDELION, AND THINKS ABOUT THE IMPERMANENCE OF THINGS Tu Wi’s is a previously unknown Chinese poet of the S’ung Dynasty Little suns, fallen to earth, blaze on the greening grass. Landlords despise them, dig out their fiery pinwheels with metal prongs, muttering words like “common” and “weeds.” Their notched leaves, jagged lion’s teeth. Their sunny faces, shaggy little manes. Old people gather them along the roadside in early spring, eat them in salads with hot bacon dressing, to strengthen the blood. Some distill them in flowery wine. But most pass them by, too ordinary to notice. When they go to seed, a child’s breath or a puff of wind sends thousands of tiny parachutes spinning. They shall inherit the earth. TU WI’S LOOKS OUT HER KITCHEN WINDOW Three blue jays sit under my green feeder, looking for all the world like a trio of cops, idling their bikes. They swagger, hitch their clubs, push each other around. I think about soldiers, politicians, how it all comes down to scrabbling over oily black seeds, who grabs the biggest part.