In the Landscape of Cantaloupes

It learns while you learn In the impossible dream of a mind on top of a tongue, The landscape of cantaloupes In the summer-fall. The birds watch clamming towards barn sales. My mother was a banjo up until the age of nine. My father took the goat and sailed to a planet northward When he was five. When he was five, When he was five, When he was my age at the age of five and I became lonely And felt much like now. Yes I have, I have written this poem many in anothertimesandnother.