September 1984


There is a barrier

in front of me

(vertical stripes

on a field of tan)

stopping all

       the carpet

               rushing to its base

       the world

               crashing without

       the light

               bursting with life

nothing breaks in


But wait!

there is a flaw

a leak

the world comes crashing


where I can see the sky


and dream

and soar

on silent wings

to distant scapes

and times


ringing of the phone

(my anchor

to my now)

cuts it off


except the leak

wherein there is hope



Sitting at my desk at Erie

where, leaning far to the right,

it was just possible to look

out through the window of one of

the conference rooms.


There is a Barrier
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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