She pushes a cart up the cramped aisle,
with bags of peanuts in a huge pile.

She hands them to people on the plane.
It is quiet, and no one complains.

I hear the bags crinkle, pop, and crunch,
as the people start to chew and munch.

A sweet, buttery scent fills the air,
as she slowly reaches the third row chair.

A woman yells, “My son cannot breathe!”
An EpiPen: in desperate need.

The mother reaches down for her purse,
and through the aisle sprints a racing nurse.

She stabs it into his little thigh,
thoughtfully praying that he won’t die.

He happily reaches for the light,
struggling to hold on with all might.

He powerfully gasps for a breath,
but has he already met his death?