A former fashion model,
Eva takes the last seat,
The one next to me,
On a seat-filled flight.

Las Vegas purse in tow.
She is kindly and pleasant,
Asking change for a hundred dollar bill
To buy potato chips.

Smelling of dirty smoke, she fans her face,
Searching for the word, for what is choking her,
"Perfume" I offer.
She smiles.

Mid-flight,
A trip to the bathroom,
I watch her roam the aisles
Seeing it as exercise.

Once again seated, by a flight attendant,
Dementia having erased the seat number
From her mind.
"I love to fly", she says.

- Scott Bader
08/04/08