Poem: Wherever the sun falls

Wherever the sun fell,
that's where she would go,
the old dog now lying under
the roof awning, yawning. The
sun slants to paint her back in sunshine
stripes. There are children in the backyard,
a rectangular plot against the alley.
Compost reeks of rabbit scat and
garlic tips. Dandelions
sprout large tufts of hair
in the lawn.
It's hard to hear the
screech of the jays against the noisy
play. Evening is falling, a blanket
around them, twinkling a glow.
You know, those times which
seem to last forever. One day for
a child is a lifetime for their elders.
It goes on and on, pulling taffy
until it multiplies. I eat the half
to be definitive. I am the
child. I am the elder. I am
the dog, streaks of sun still
warming my back.