TOFU By Liyi & Anny, both age 11

I run home from Hodo Soy

as leaves fall in my hair.

I arrive at noon

and rush into the kitchen

with a plastic bag of 

tiny, 

jiggling 

squares.

Tofu dances on the pan,

chasing oil.

I scoop my meal onto a plate

but I trip

and it spatters to the ground.

My stomach growls.