Stark Bare Trees on Piermont Pier

Visibility is low, wear a bright vest, Cycle with lights on, caution is best. Stay on the bike path across the Tappan Zee The Hudson's below, but you can't see You can't see the water, the fog is like a wall It might be a blanket, it might be a pall You peer through glasses - an ancient man smiles. Your bike hums in tune as it laps up the miles. Turn south to the rail trail above Grandview When you see a face, you seek for a clue a man emerges, with dogs on each side He looks sarcastic, but you nod as you ride. You reach Piermont Pier, last stop Erie train Soldiers embarked, not all came back again The white in the sky obscures the sun Seagulls rest but your peace won't come Memories like waves begin. The air is soft, so what stings your skin? Father couldn't speak before life disappeared. You dream of him as you stand on the pier. Fog as a cloak, you hide in a cloud People are scarce, but you don't like a crowd. Head down in the fog, try hard to shed a tear. Stark bare trees on a foggy pier. Last look back on Piermont Pier.