Summer's Apples and Hands

Summer days
are like apples
you have many different varieties
and colors
maybe a whole week might be a granny smith week
or a red delicious week
two or three days dedicated to gala
or maybe each day is something different.
more days
drift hazily by
than you think
before you blink
they're floating away
like the fluffy white  clouds on a windy day
and you're left
wishing they still remained
confused about why last summer seemed longer
you could wake up and feel exhausted
the heat stealing your hard earned energy
or you could rise with a tank full enough to drive you anywhere you'd dream
the beach
the mountains
the parties
the open road
a hotel
a cabin
a rest stop
any direction the day flows
you might as well flow along with it
because you will only have this river for a short amount of time

The nights of summer
are different though
nights are always short
and these seem longer
the light of sun seems to hold on
as tightly as it can to the cool night air
until it slips away
and all you can see is the stars
warming yourself by the campfire
an imprint of the day left on your cheeks
or shoulders
you smell of sunscreen and bug spray
but it's a good smell
will the night be cool?
enough for a sleeping bag to wrap you up and protect you?
or will the darkness stick to your skin and make your breathing heavy?
Summer nights are not apples
they are like hands holding you until morning comes
covering the sky with diamonds
and allowing you to see them
then telling you to look no longer as they pull the sleepy sun from it's hiding place on the horizon