Comments about Talmadge Rogalla
It is like the night between dusk and dawn, a cold void caused by her absence. She leaves; the heart feels heavy and hopes for the sunrise like a closed flower consoled, but not forgotten by the moonlight.
Then she smiles over the horizon and melts the misty morning with her beams. Once more the heart rejoices; the flower opens its petals, kissed by her radiance.
After giving so much she gently fades over the horizon leaving the flower to close her cup in the dying sunlight, only for the