Wiardgroup

There was snow on the ground on 14 December 1956.
But his folks were veterans.
Lorraine had done this before, she knew when it was time to go.
Jim was a level-headed driver. Hell!, he'd been in the war
Lord knows he'd been through worse.
Thanks to this surfeit of competence, Racine's population increased shortly thereafter
by one boy.
From there he tumbled, as we all do, down the pinball path of his life.
He watched the lightning on the lake, imagining that he played on alien landscapes with his brother.
At his back, from the shoreline cities, the sixties rung in his ears.

In time, he was on his own.
So to keep himself company he distilled the song of the wogglebug
from the random paths of the steel ball,
the blinding arcs of the July storms,
and the accidental perfection
of December snow.



-many happy returns Professor Richter
-doc