A technicolor night in a black and white week

The grey air attaches itself to the green trees and takes hold of me
Time sighs to a halt and my mind wanders the vast reaches of itself
Time to light up a smoke and wish I could make music
Capture your imagination with my guitar until my fingers turn red
Then play a little more
Take you to where I've been, show you what I've done
Make you dream of pools in the sun
Or being here with me
Day turns to night, crazy dreams turn to dust
But I refuse to blow them away
I'd rather save them for another day

I was just sitting outside with Gunther and started thinking about all kinds of things, and decided to jot down a quick little poem to summarize the experience.