Spring 2020

When you finally buy limes and seltzer
for your gin.
When evening air still ripples, cool
as a silk scarf against your neck.
When you smile, hearing the first slap of flip flops on cement.
When no one can keep up with nature,
when mosquitos invade the air
before anyone expects them.
When the first hummingbird dive-bombs with his tiny spear.

Pam Clements lives in Albany, New York. Her poetry and nonfiction have appeared in several literary magazines, including Kalliope, The Palo Alto Review, The Baltimore Review, and others. She has published one volume of poetry, Earth Science (Troy Book Makers) and is currently completing a memoir about five years she spent teaching in Charleston, South Carolina.