szabo@apollo.uucp (11/21/85)
Nightingale The sun pours in on her only - finding a need for its warmth She sings into the soft white space surrounding her - hospital walls holding a willful heart The quiet courage moves me to listen for the sound of God rustling among the sheets Leslie walks among young soldiers comforting the weary holding vigil with the wounded she touches them with healing and hope Holding hands we stand poised at the boundary on the verge of the sky then gracefully, we arc from the window and fly