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Wing's first collection of poetry is born out of an adventurous youth. From age 7 to 19 he grew up exploring the great forests, White Mountains and waters of New Hampshire. The 20s brought him South, West, North, East then always West again. Between the jobs and piano were long treks through the wilderness. Between the treks was the road. Oft the road was crossed and into the damp dark he would remain, but when the winds would blow just right, come the howl of wild night, off the trail he would skip into a decision of new. The future veiled with past but a preceptor.